


A Past to Die For, a Future to Live For

by hunkamunka144



Series: The Lannister Legacy [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 80,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunkamunka144/pseuds/hunkamunka144
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU – Tyrion accepted his father’s ‘mercy’ and went to the Wall, which forced Jaime to follow through with his promise to be the Lord of Casterly Rock.</p>
<p>Takes place at the end of Season 4</p>
<p>Sorry, this has not been beta read - only minor editing has been done on this since it was first published.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, and her body began to shake from the beating she had given as well as taken. She might have killed the Hound, but he did not let her leave unscathed.

As Brienne sunk to her knees, her squire Podrick raced up to her.

“Where’s Arya?” she gasped out, her head now throbbing as horribly as her ribs. Jaime’s armor had protected her well, but her head had remained uncovered throughout the battle.

“I don’t know.” He studied her appearance. “We should get you to a healer.”

“We need to find Arya.” She spat out some bloody phlegm that thankfully did not include any pieces of teeth. That bastard could hit hard. Already she felt her right eye swelling shut.

“Maybe she went to the nearby town.” He pointed over at a distant hill. They could see signs of smoke and heard the echoing noise that usually indicated a community.

Bleakly, Brienne nodded. So far her squire’s plans had worked and frankly she could not concentrate very well right now.  
Suddenly, she found some horse’s reins in her fist. “Where—?”

“I think it’s the Hound’s horse.” Certainly was big enough for the man, Podrick thought. “Get on and we can go to that town.”

She was about to argue stubbornly from habit, but became so dizzy she momentarily leaned her head against the animals side.

Podrick could not assist her up onto the beast without her help. “Please, Ser— Lady Brienne,” he indicated his cupped hands for her use.

Her irritation regarding her title flared, and it gave her the energy to boost herself up and onto the saddle on her own. She almost continued over the side, but Podrick steadied her. He then handed her the reins and settled the two saddle bags behind her. If only he hadn’t lost their horses with their other belongings, they would still have that pastry that boy had given them. Maybe that would have helped to convince Arya that they were on her side, and this whole mess would not have occurred.

Letting her set the pace, he jogged alongside and kept a watchful eye on the dazed woman next to him.

*

The ride to town would usually not take long, but their slow pace added time. Once they arrived, Brienne glanced fleetingly around and realized this was a port town. This did not bode well for them to find Arya, especially if the girl wanted to escape from their pursuit.

Podrick must have been thinking the same worrisome thoughts and led them toward the docks.

As they went from berth to berth, each negative answer made her already splitting headache worse. Now she saw streaks of light. These little flare ups were making her wince, and the bright sunlight from overhead wasn’t helping either.

Thankfully by the sixth inquiry, a grubby man in tattered clothes came forward and grasped her horse’s reins, making her stop. “I saw the little girl you are asking about.” His lecherous grin made Brienne realize why he had spotted the young Stark girl. If she hadn’t felt so awful, she would have honored Arya and ran the pervert through with her sword. 

She blurrily studied the man. “Oh?” she tiredly asked. More and more she thought Podrick’s suggestion of staying in a nearby inn appealing.

“I want a silver, though.”

Brienne began to yank her reins free when he blurted out, “Short brown hair like a boy. Had a fierce little sword.”

‘The Needle.’ Brienne thought and fumbled in her pouch for a coin.

Podrick beat her to it and tossed a silver at the beggar.

“Now tell us what you saw.” The squire barked out impressively, which caused Brienne to grimace at the loud sound.

After making sure it was real, the beggar then pointed at a mooring two ships down. “She boarded a boat from that dock a few hours ago.”

Brienne inwardly groaned, her worst fears realized. “Where was she headed?”

“How would I know?” Again she wanted to run her blade through the deviant, but she was suddenly exhausted. Realizing that there was no way they could find Arya, she just wanted to crawl into a hole to sleep and never emerge from again. Why did it seem she could never complete any of her oaths? Maybe the Gods hated her after all. Despondent, she began to lead her horse away.

Noticing her mood, Podrick trotted up to her and carefully grasped the reins to halt her. “Where to now, my lady?”

She began to shake her head to try to clear it, but that only made the bright lights more piercing. Her head felt it was going to pound off her shoulders. And now trying to take a breath with her tender ribs was getting harder and harder.

Brienne opened her mouth to reply, but everything was beginning to pull into a tiny black dot before her eyes. Before she could comment on the oddity, she fell from her saddle and to the ground unconscious.

“My Lady!” Podrick yelled and quickly checked on her. Brienne was out cold. ‘Well, at least, we are closer to a nearby inn,’ he reasoned to himself.

Only a few had turned at the sound of the armored woman falling from her horse, but of the bigger of them, he waved over. “I’ll give you a copper each if you help me get her inside.”

Eagerly nodding they came over and with a grunt grabbed her and staggered into the inn.

After quickly dealing with the Innkeeper, Podrick had them haul her up to the room and place her on the bed.

'Now the fun part,' he thought grimly. 'Removing her armor.' 

It took some work to loosen the ties, but he was able to remove the top pieces and the thick leather skirt. If he hadn’t assisted her with donning the armor for over a month, he would have had no idea on how to remove it. 

He got the padding off she wore under her armor and just left her trousers on as well as a loose linen tunic. He was concerned that she had stayed unconscious throughout the entirety of this ordeal.

He had already asked the Innkeepers son to run and fetch the local Maester. Now he studied her swelling and bruised features. That brute had done a number on her.

After one of the chambermaids had brought up fresh water and a clean cloth, he carefully began to wash away the blood from the various head wounds she had received. As he wiped gently across her forehead, she mumbled something. He wasn’t positive, but it sounded like a breathless, “Jaime…”

Just then, the Maester strode in. He took one look at her and ordered Podrick out from the room so he could focus on his patient in privacy.

Podrick was all right with that; he had a few errands he had to accomplish before she came too. One was to locate where that ship had gone with Arya. He hoped she had stayed in Westeros region and not gone overseas.

The other was to find a messenger service. He had promised to keep a certain Commander of the Kingsguard informed if she ever got badly hurt and this was news he dared not keep from him.

He did not think Ser Jaime was going to be very pleased when he got word of this.

*

Brienne awoke in the dark with a horrendous headache and pain in her ribs that made them feel as if they were on fire.  
Groaning, she began to roll to the side. Suddenly, she found herself trying to knock away the hands that were attempting to press her back into the bed. Alas, she was far too weak to succeed. Finally, she registered Podrick’s frantic voice telling her to relax. Her hammering heart did nothing for her head or her side.

“Podrick? What—Where?”

He lit a nearby candle, and she was grateful it wasn’t any brighter than that. Though her right eye was swollen shut, her left one began to water.

He held a cup containing a foul smelling liquid to her mouth, but she refused to drink it. And if she had the strength she’d swat it away. Hoping if he placated her she would take it willingly, he stated, “We’re still in the Saltpans, but are staying at the Waverly Inn. The Maester said you were to drink this when you woke. It would help with the pain.”

Once again he held it up to her lips and this time, she drank it. She nearly gagged on the taste, which did nothing for her sore ribs. If she had the strength, she’d make him drink it. “We, we need to find Arya.” She again tried to leave the bed.

Podrick gave up and let her stubbornness realize it was out of its depths. She had only gotten one foot out of bed when she began to crumple forwards. Quickly, he helped her settle back under the covers, and she sagged exhausted into the pillow.

“I spoke to the dockyard, and they said that boat was heading for Braavos.” He noticed her eye squeeze in tight and realized she was holding back tears of frustration. “Now the healer said you needed to rest.”

She tried to hide her yawn, but already her left eye was having trouble staying open. Just barely cracking it, she asked, “And why am I nearly naked?”

“Um, the Maester needed to check over your body. He said you had three cracked ribs and a nasty concussion. Thankfully, he doesn’t think you lost sight in your right eye. Told me you should stay in bed for a least a week.” He gave her the side-eye expecting her to attempt once again to crawl out of bed. But for once the fates were on his side as she had already passed out.

Exhaling, he went back to his makeshift bed and promptly fell back asleep.

*

Whatever the Maester had him give her worked well, and she slept through most of the next day. For dinner, he had them bring up some broth for her. The healer was insistent that he get her to eat.

“What?” She seemed to be asking that question a lot lately.

“You need to eat.” He helped prop her up and then began to spoon the clear soup into her mouth. She felt foolish. The only time anyone had to feed her was when she was very little, and fever had ravaged her body. Her Septa had sat with her and had helped her through it, but as always she was chastised for something or another. Brienne's far off introspection was interrupted when Podrick once again held the spoon up to her lips.

She hated being this weak, and her squire seemed to realize this. “How do you expect to get better if you don’t eat? Don’t worry we will be back on the road in no time.”

“Then what Podrick? Then what do we do? I’ve lost both Stark girls. I can’t seem to do anything right.”

“You killed the Hound,” he said it quietly. “One of the best swordsman in Westeros too.”

“I barely beat him, and if he had been at full strength, he would have bested me.” She knew the Hound was not at his healthiest. He seemed to be favoring his left side for some reason, and he easily tired. She had been in enough melees to recognize that.

”I still think you would have won.” He smiled shyly, pleased that she had done so well in that epic battle between such two strong combatants.

She had eaten all she could and briefly closed her eyes. Her headache had dissipated somewhat, but still she was having a hard time focusing. “I just don’t know anymore, Podrick.”

“You need your rest. Once you are better, we can figure out where to go to next.” He was going to suggest they head back to King’s Landing, but he knew she would feel even more of a failure if she went back there. Besides that whole issue of him being Lord Tyrion’s estranged squire would have been awkward, to say the least.

She tried to nod, but it made her gasp out in pain. Podrick quickly mixed the herbs in water and held it her lips. “Please, drink this.”

Wearily she drank the foul beverage and let it help her settle her mind. With her thoughts of failure being so oppressive, she looked forward to the escape into dreams.

Pleased, Podrick went back to his vigil by the window. He had sent the message two days ago and hoped to have an answer for her the next time she wakened. He did not care for the look of resignation she had and just pegged it as her being in too much pain. In a few days, she’d snap out of it and by then someone would be there who should be able to convince her to go back to King’s Landing.

*

Enough time had passed, and Brienne could no longer stay grounded. The constant need to be moving seemed to frustrate her squire as well as the Maester, who had come by that afternoon to say she was on the mend.

“I appreciate all you have done, healer. But we must leave.”

Recognizing the stubborn streak, he grumbled something about it being her funeral and left.

Podrick tried to get her to see reason. “Then where to my Lady?”

Through the past few days of drug induced sleep, only one thought came to mind. Sansa was still out there. They had to find Sansa.

The only idea she had was to continue heading to the Eyrie as they had been doing before they came across Arya and the Hound.

Sansa’s aunt was the Lady of the Vale, and that would be the best place for her to go. It was either that or go back home to Tarth empty handed. Frustratingly, the thought of going home was so welcoming that she had to beat it back. There was still her oath to Lady Catelyn Stark and Jaime that she would find Sansa and get her somewhere safe. Maybe once found they could all go back home to Tarth. Her father would be happy to see her.

“We go to the Eyrie. That was a good idea you had that Sansa might have run to the safety of her aunt. But we need to hurry in case she decides to move on.”

He had to try to slow her down. “At least, wait until the morning.”

Brienne reluctantly nodded and winced at the sharp pain. “Yes,” she managed out. “We will leave on the morrow.” Already she was scooting back down under the covers. It pleased her that she now had a goal.

She had briefly been out of bed during her days of convalescing. Mainly to relieve herself, and she was disturbed by how weak and tired she felt. She made herself believe her malaise was due to her wounds and not this continued dread that she was a failure at everything she tried.

*

The next morning she forced herself out of bed and stared belligerently at her armor. She could not make herself put it on, nor the padding. Besides being too heavy, it seemed as if the weight of her failure was already a difficult enough burden for her to carry. She did put the trousers on under her tunic and strapped Oathkeeper firmly around her waist. It would not help to go gallivanting around unarmed in just her tunic.

Podrick had soon arrived with breakfast and was surprised to see her already dressed. He did not say anything when she glared tiredly at him.

They ate in silence, each stuck in their thoughts. Once they were finished, Podrick bound up her armor and padding. He nearly used the pretext that they needed to get another packhorse to get her to consider waiting another day, but by the set of her jaw, he knew it wouldn’t work.

Delicately, Brienne made her way slowly down the stairs. Her right eye still wouldn’t open all the way, but it was just as well, the bright sunlight was still unpleasant.

She spoke to the Innkeeper, her voice hoarser than she remembered it being, “Which way to the Bloody Gates?”

The jovial man pointed behind him, “18 miles northeast.”

She nodded her thanks and stated to Podrick, “Good, we should arrive by nightfall.”

After leaving the inn, they entered the stables.

Wincing at her horse, Brienne took a careful deep breath and then pulled herself onto the saddle. Her side hitched painfully, but the Maester had wrapped her ribs well, so it could have been worst.

After he had loaded their horses with the last of their gear and provisions, Podrick then clamored on top of his mount. Brienne started them on a sedated ride, for the bouncing would have been murder on her. Besides, they had plenty of time to get to the Eyrie.

*

They had been riding for a few hours and already her ribs were aching. Being in a seated position on a horse with cracked ribs was not comfortable. And not to mention how sore she still felt below where the Hound had retaliated her punch to his privates with a kick to her own.

Brienne would never admit that maybe she should have stayed in bed a little longer. She tried stretching in her seat and winced.

With a sigh, Brienne realized that she would need to take a break. She was already perturbed at how long the journey was taking. 

Grumbling to herself, she led them off the road and stopped by a clump of trees. Attempting to hide her embarrassment over her perceived weakness, she explained to her squire, “I think my horse needs a rest.” She then quickly assured, “But just a short one.”

Podrick did not say anything and assisted her off of her horse. As he helped her sit against a nearby tree, he noticed that she appeared to be in a lot of discomfort. Between the grimaces and her sweated brow, he was surprised she still wanted to go on. 

The young squire then made a show of wiping down her horse. He knew Lady Brienne was more than just physically hurting. Unsure how to comfort her, he did the next best thing by keeping up with the appearance that she wanted to project.

Brienne glanced over at her squire and grinned. It was nice he did not call her on her lie, but then that suddenly made it worse. He had pity for her. That feeling was awful, and yet again memories from her childhood flooded forward. Quickly pushing down those thoughts, she struggled to her feet. “Let’s ride.”

“But, my lady—” he protested. Quickly he rushed over to attend her as she obstinately staggered back to her horse.

She then knocked away Podrick’s offer to help her back on. “I can do it. Just give me a moment,” she ground out between gritted teeth.

Just as she was about to lunge herself onto her mount, they heard the sound of approaching horses. 

Thankfully, the popular road had been brigand free, but that still did not mean there weren’t bad people on it. They might try to take advantage of them, especially when they saw how hurt she was.

Relishing a chance not to get back on her horse, she instead rested a hand on her sword’s pommel.

It appeared as if the small traveling party would have quickly trotted past them, but suddenly the lead rider halted the group.

Squinting at them, Brienne noticed all the finery the riders were wearing. 'No,' she reasoned, 'these were not brigands approaching them.' She was about to call a warning when the helmed man leaped from his horse and was instantly by her side. 

He had been so fast she had hardly been able to follow his moves. Instinctively, she went for her blade, but his golden hand stopped her movement.

“My Gods, Brienne, are you okay?” Though she could not make his face out because of his helm, she would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Jaime…?” She was so shocked; she had to sit down a moment. He quickly helped her back over to the tree.

After he had given her some water, Brienne was able to collect her thoughts. She was going to ask what he was doing here when she noticed him glaring accusingly over his shoulder at Podrick. The only answer her squire could give was a helpless shrug.

Jaime grunted in unspoken agreement and then removed his mantle.

Brienne fought the urge to touch his handsome features.

He cheekily stated, “I heard the news that you killed that bastard the Hound and wanted to congratulate you personally.”

An exhausted Brienne grinned at him; she missed his presence.

“Now tell me what the hell you were doing going after him by yourself?” He didn’t mean to sound so confrontational, but this stubborn wench sometimes drove him mad. 

The moment Jaime got Podrick’s message; he suddenly had to find Brienne and make sure she was alright. He honestly didn’t know why he felt such urgency. So he justified it as being concerned that his best friend was in trouble. Besides, she would have done the same for him.

Brienne tiredly indicated Podrick. “Did he also inform you that Arya was with the Hound?”

“What?” Jaime exclaimed in surprised.

Carefully, she nodded. She wouldn’t keep that news from him. It was both their oaths to return the Stark girls to safety.  
Besides, Arya was half way across the sea by now. No matter what his horrible father tried to do, he could no longer touch her.  
“Yes, she is on her way to Braavos.” She spat out in an angry hiss.

He frowned at her evident frustration. Surprisingly, she appeared to be close to tears.

“Why in the world would she want to go there?” His humorous tone made her look at him. “I mean really. Could you imagine her with all those bankers — poor girl would be bored half to death.”

She pursed her lips and tried not to think of the other legendary skills that one could learn there. Arya had been rather good with that little blade of hers.

“Yes, I suppose.” Brienne sniffed out.

After Jaime had studied her closer, he stated, “Wench, you look so comfortable there, why don’t we set up camp early and you can tell me what happened.” Obviously, there was a story, and he could not wait to hear it. 

Noticing her hesitation, he added, “Since I will be riding with you for some of the way, I’d love to hear about your adventures so far.” Jaime hoped to convince her to join him on his travels instead and to forget this bloody oath of hers.

She was so relieved to have an excuse to rest, that she had almost missed what he had added. “You’re joining us?”

“I’d like to travel with you a ways if you let me, at least until we reach the crossroads to Casterly Rock.” He wanted to say, ‘Or at least until I am sure you won’t get into any more trouble.’ It killed him to see her hurt like this. Besides, he felt responsible for her continuing this treasonous pledge.

Brienne frowned. “Casterly Rock is in the opposite direction of where I am going.”

“Well, maybe I wish to explore a little before I am shackled to my lonely Keep.” He stopped at her raised eyebrow. “I will tell you my sordid little tale later. Just think of it as my not wanting to miss out on an adventure with my favorite wench? You always seem to attract trouble.”

“I attract—?” She began to incredulously protest.

He smiled at her irritation. “I like traveling with you, Brienne. So tell me what happened.”

She studied him, and he innocently smiled back at her. Grimly nodding, she then allowed herself to lean back against the tree.

Jaime motioned for the group to set up camp. As his men did so, he listened as she began to tell him what had happened since she had left King’s Landing.

Internally he winced as he surreptitiously examined her. The swelling around her right eye was very prominent, and the bruises were still a dark purple. Podrick had mentioned in his message that she had been wounded in battle. Well, she certainly appeared to have not gone in halfheartedly. She also favored one side. He recognized the symptoms and knew she had cracked ribs.

He noticed that she glossed over parts of their journey before meeting the Hound. Later, he would ask Podrick to fill in what she left out. 

When she spoke of the final confrontation, she had been very open about her conversation with Arya. Brienne choked up a bit when she reiterated the Stark girl’s accusation of not looking out for her mother, the Lady Stark.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “She did not know, Brienne. She was hurting and took it out on you. Why she sided with the Hound, I will never understand.” He glumly shook his head regarding that. “Now tell me about your fight with the Hound, and don’t leave anything out.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

He stared at her dubiously.

Brienne guessed she could tell him some things. “Well, he fights dirtier than he is given credit. But I did manage to bite his ear off.”

“What?” He could hardly contain his mirth. “Cooked or plain side?”

She grimaced. “Burned.”

“At least, it should be free of diseases.” He smiled, “I can’t believe you bite off his ear.”

“It was not very chivalrous of me.” She glanced away ashamed. Still believing in the virtuousness of knighthood, her behavior during the fight was less than honorable, and it made her feel wretched.

“Was this before or after he kicked you below?” Jaime asked slyly.

Instantly, her face flushed. “What? How did you know?”

He chuckled at her admission. “Trust me, I know what being kicked in the groin feels like, and you were eyeing your horse rather angrily when we rode up.”

Chuckling, Brienne then grimaced as it pulled on her ribs. “Yes,” she ground out, “he did kick me there, but only after I had done the same to him.”

Jaime laughed louder at that. “Oh wench, to have seen that battle, I bet it was glorious.”

“Hardly, we soon both lost our weapons and began to punch each other instead,” she gingerly rubbed her sore jaw. “But earlier when I had my sword to his throat I thought I had gotten him to surrender, but I made the mistake of calling him Ser.”  
She tiredly snorted, “If I had known he’d treat it as a worse insult than you, I would never have said that to him.”

“And then?”

“We hit each other some more. He then threatened me with his dagger, so I bit off his ear and punched him off a cliff.” She looked rather apologetic. “He made me mad.”

“I imagine.” His soft, wistful words made her glance at him. He was staring at her, but not seeing her. Before she could hauntingly comment, Podrick arrived with some food.

“The Maester said to make sure she eats.” He dropped the plate next to Jaime as if to say; she ’s now your problem.  
“Podrick.” She grounded out in irritation at his retreating form.

“I will make sure the lady consumes nourishment.” Jaime handed her some fruit pieces. “Well, go on, and eat.”

Glumly she ate, still careful of her sore mouth.

Jaime also joined her in the repast.

Between bites, she asked, “So tell me what happened in King’s Landing, to you being the Commander of the Kingsguard? Why do you have to go to Casterly Rock?”

“Oh, nothing we need to get into now.” After her glare of skepticism, he sighed and then told her of his promise to his father and the reasons behind it. In telling her what happened, he was surprised to realize that giving up the Kingsguard did not affect him as badly as he thought it would. More and more he noticed all the graft and corruption among those so called honorable Knights. He wondered if it had always been there and he was finally just starting to see it.

“That was very noble of you to give all that up to protect your brother, Jaime.” She shyly stared at him with pride.

Ignoring her comment, Jaime held up his golden hand, the one that begets of the Lannister’s wealth and notoriety. But also of what he had lost. “Some lose their choices in the world.”

He noticed she was silently mulling something over. Then she shook her head and stated, “And some of us use it to our advantage.”

“Meaning?”

Cheekily she said, “You are a lot smarter than then you are given credit for.”

“Thanks.” His gruff voice sounded insulted.

“Awww, you know what I mean, use it to your advantage. It always works for me,” she tiredly added.

He almost automatically chastised her for thinking that, but then respected the source. “No one should ever underestimate you; they’d be a fool.”

She glanced way blushing. To refocus the conversation, she added quickly, “Besides, you are great at convincing people of anything. You’ll make the perfect Lord.”

They share a laugh over that. He then told her an amusing story about his failure at following his father’s lessons in leadership.

Afterward, when all the food had been eaten, and words were spoken, she found herself sinking lower against the tree.

Forcing herself to focus, she nodded her head in Jaime’s general direction. “And so you are off to Casterly Rock to claim your birthright?”

“Yes, father wants me to go there immediately.” He had found a leaf on the ground and twisted it in his grasp.

“Why are you here, Jaime?” Though Brienne’s soft tone was hopeful, there was a concern in it for her friend.

He let the leaf fall and grinned merrily over at her, “Can’t I travel with my favorite knight?”

Exhaling out in slight irritation, she grumbled, “I am not a knight.”

“Well, not officially, but you certainly are the one with the purest heart among us.”

Once again he stared at the ground, and she glanced away embarrassed. Then Brienne challenged as she peered sharply at him. “No really, joking aside.”

He gazed into her bright blue eyes. “Wench, what makes you think I was joking. Besides, since when have I ever abided my father’s wishes?” Frowning, he looked away when Podrick showed up with a full cup.

“She also needs to drink this. It helps against the pain.” Shoving the foul beverage into Jaime’s hand, the young squire then left them alone again.

“Damn-it Podrick, I am not some—” she gasped when she tried to sit up.

“Here, here, let me help.” Jaime slowly assisted her in sitting up. “Now be a good lady and drink this.” He held the cup to her lips.

“It makes me sleepy,” she protested.

Jaime shrugged nonplused. “Well, it is nearly dark. Sleep now and we can leave early in the morrow. Where are you headed by the way?”

She took a sip and nearly spat it out. She couldn’t believe it tasted worse, and this was a half dose?! “We had been heading to the Eyrie to see Sansa’s aunt, so we will continue there.”

As she yawned, Jaime frowned. She must not know that the Lady Lysa had recently died under mysterious circumstances. In the morning, he would tell her his concerns about Littlefinger and the Eyrie.

In reflecting on her perilous destination, Jaime wondered if maybe he should take her to Casterly Rock with him instead. He was curious about how much of those herbs were safe to give her if it meant she slept all the way to his new home. That would probably be the only way to get this stubborn woman not to continue to such a dangerous place.

She finished the draught, and he helped her over to the bedding that Podrick had set up for her.

Once she was settled, he sought out her squire. There were still quite a few things that needed to be discussed. One was how in the hell did he allow her to leave the inn in this condition!


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning as they broke their fast, Jaime informed Brienne of the current political upheaval at the Eyrie. 

Brienne nodded and seemed not too surprised by his news, “I am sorry to hear about Lady Lysa.” She realized that having Lord Baelish there would be a problem, but maybe she could talk to the young son, Robin, instead.

Misreading her stern expression, Jaime reiterated, “Littlefinger is not to be trusted, Brienne.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve met him before. He spoke from the side of his eyes, more interested in saving his skin than keeping any loyalty.” She recalled how she had stood guard near Renly as Littlefinger sold out the Lannister’s. Baelish had wanted to make sure he would not be killed when King’s Landing was overrun with Renly’s troops. She could appreciate the need for survival, but not at the cost of one's honor.

Jaime was curious what the circumstances were, but respected her silence. “Then he is obviously dangerous, and you should try elsewhere.”

Not to his surprise, she still stubbornly insisted on going there. “We either start there or go to her brother at the Northern wall. Personally, I’d prefer to try someplace not so cold for now.”

“Fine wench, then I am going with you.” There was no way he was going to let her go alone to face that viper Littlefinger, especially when she was this weakened. Baelish would kill her just for the sport. Probably kick her out of that damn Moon Door of his.

She glared at him. “Don’t you have a Castle to go to?”

He shrugged nonplused at her pointed stare. “There’s plenty of time for me to reclaim it.”

“You’re avoiding your duties,” she sighed out.

“No, you reminded me that my first sworn duty is to make sure the Stark girls are safe. So, I am going with you. Besides, such a noble quest would certainly fill many pages in the White Book. I know, think of it as my last hurrah before I must rule a ridiculously large castle.”

Internally she grimaced. He could be so persistent. But she was also secretly happy he would be joining her. He was fun to travel with, and it did not hurt to have someone who was good with court intrigue at her side. There was also other underlying emotions tied up with him, but she quickly ignored the little voice in her head that was pleased he wasn’t making her leave him again.

With a brisk nod, she stated, “Alright. You can join us.”

Jaime silently cheered. He too was delighted she was allowing him to continue with her. He did miss their time together, and there was much to catch each other up on. Besides, the Eyrie had more traps than one could imagine.

*

As they slowly made their way to the Bloody Gates, he noticed that in the bright morning light, Brienne was already looking healthier. The swelling around her right eye had gone down, and the facial bruises were now in the purple, green stage. It was still jarring to gaze at her colorful features, but if anything they made her appear more formidable. Only she could make her injuries work to her benefit. 

And being with Jaime seemed to have knocked Brienne out of her depression somewhat. Anytime she became introspective; he would be regal her with an amusing story or insight into his family. 

In the beginning, he only nattered away to keep her meditative frown at bay but eventually his stories made her smile. Soon she was out of her melancholy and sharing a laugh with him. He then realized that even with the bruises, whenever her sapphire eyes sparkled in mirth the colorful wounds would be quickly overshadowed. Surprisingly, he wanted to see that side of her more and more. To him, it made her beautiful, but he quickly chastised such thoughts. 

They were only good friends; he reminded himself. He always felt relaxed around her and could confide in her just about anything. He never had a friend like that. Everyone he knew was always trying to use his standing (as they were) for their gain. But she wanted nothing to do with politics or intrigue. It was refreshing to be around someone that honest and noble. And it was also a bit dangerous. Those were two ideals that appealed to him very much and he contentedly sighed. 

Glancing over at his relaxed but slightly perplexed features, Brienne ruefully smiled. At first, she had been irritated that his incessant chatter had interrupted her wallowing in thoughts regarding her failures, but soon found herself secretly loving his attention. She did enjoy his company and hoped that when they came to the crossroads, he would still be by her side. He had promised he would be, but she was so used to people changing their minds concerning her. 

Later, she was then very pleased when he, in fact, did take the road with her to the Eyrie. 

*

Shortly they would arrive at the Bloody Gates. To relieve the growing tension, Jaime further expounded on his future role in running Casterly Rock. His father had insisted he attend all the King’s Landing council meetings with him. This way he could learn the proper way to rule as a Lannister. “As if I was some damn moppet!” He yelled out startling a nest of birds overhead.

Brienne laughed at his indignation. 

He glared at her. “Yes, and if my brother were still there, he would also be having a good time at my misery.”

Brienne swallowed her next chuckle and instead glanced at him with concern, “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Yes. He is a good man.” Jaime curtly nodded as if convincing himself.

“And you believe he did not kill your son?”

“Wench you’ve seen him. Do you?”

Brienne thought about it. She had noticed how he treated Sansa and believed him to be kind to her, as well as to Podrick. But then to others he played the role of a quick tongue mocker, almost overly compensating for it. 

She knew such actions were partly due to being an oddity. For self-preservation alone you built up the expectations of how others perceived you. Personally, she made sure to keep such attention away from herself by acting on their assumption that since she was so big, she was also slow. 

At least, she was isolated on an island with an accepting father (well most of the time). Tyrion was the youngest son of a proud Lannister clan. It also did not help that King Joffrey had been quite a bastard to his Uncle Tyrion. She knew from her experience that one could only be pushed so far.

After much thought, Brienne stated, “No. Besides, poison is a coward’s tool.” He saw her distaste and doubted she would ever use such a method.

He quietly said, “At least my offer worked to spare him.”

She nodded at him, pleased at his noble gesture. His introspection seemed to continue as he asked, “Could you give this all up, Brienne?”

With a resigned sigh, she then glumly stated, “I suppose eventually I will have to go home and marry. I am the only one left to carry on the family title.”

Jaime nodded in understanding. Family seemed to trump everything. 

Silent for just a moment, he then scratched his right hand. The sound of hollow metal reminded him of the truth. He grimaced at his golden appendage and sadly sighed.

Concerned, she glanced down at it. “Do you still feel it?” She had heard stories of phantom limbs from wounded soldiers for years now.

His smile was whimsical, “Yes. I swear when I first wake up in the morning it is still attached.”

“Locke was such a bastard to do that to you. I wish we’d come across him now. I’d love to make him slowly eat various body parts.” Her gritted wrath momentarily pleased him. 

Then in an admonishing tone, “Brienne of Tarth, what would your lord father say to that?!” After noticing that she still wasn’t grinning in jest, “I cannot believe you mean it.”

She shrugged. “You weren’t the only changed from our travels.”

Solemnly he stared at her, but she refused to look his way. The conversation was getting a bit deeper than either wanted to go. He once again stared at his golden hand.

“Actually, I thought I can still use this in battle.” He swatted the reminder of his family’s wealth around as if he was batting at flies.

“Oh?” Thankful that their exchange was now on safer ground, she stared at him intrigued.

“Yes, I thought I could somehow attach a blade to my stump.” Now he was serious as he waved it gracefully around. “Naturally my moves would not be so fluid without the assisted twists of the wrist, but I would be more deadly than I am with my left.”

“Well, why give up all you have learned with your left? Why not instead use two blades?”

He grinned. “That’s a marvelous idea. I know, you can help me spar.” 

She smiled pleased and nodded. He did seem to be finding excuses to spend more time with her. She wondered how soon it would be until he broke her heart like all the others did and leave her. It was either that or death always seemed to find them and drag them away from her.

*

The Bloody Gates was an imposing entrance. One of the best defended Brienne had ever come across. She had only heard tales of the Eyrie, and after Jaime had warned her of the various tricks and traps within, she was glad to have him by her side.

The guards at the paddock insisted that they leave their horses behind there. Then the garrison that guarded the gates glared at Jaime’s party of six soldiers. To not to cause any problems, Jaime ordered his small group of protectors to stay behind in the nearby barracks with the other gate guards. They are not happy, but he was insistent and joked that Brienne and her squire would look after him.

His guards rude glances towards Brienne made her stand up straighter, and they begrudgingly agreed to stay behind.

*

The trip through the thin crevice to the Keep concerned Brienne. Her large shoulders felt as if they could easily brush either side of the high rocky walled ravine. Also unnerving was the trained archer’s overhead, just waiting for any suspicious behavior to open fire on.

Finally, they made their way into the Eyrie’s squat shaped form, and Jaime studied his faltering traveling partner closer. Even though it had only been a few days since her fight with the Hound, Brienne still stoically tried not to sway from fatigue. “Once we are heralded in, I will request chambers for you, so you can rest.” She just stonily frowned at him. “You look like you are about to pass out.” Podrick was also eyeing her cautiously.

“All the way here you warned me about this man, and you expect me to leave you alone with him?” She hissed out through clenched teeth. “Besides this is my oath to complete.”

“Fine wench, just don’t humiliate me by keeling over in mid-sentence.” 

Brienne’s eyes flared, and she stood taller, more imposing. ‘Good,’ he nodded to himself, pleased he could still get a rise out of her. “And it is both of our pledges, Brienne. No doubt Littlefinger will insist on meeting us before we can see the Lady’s son, so it is best for now if you leave the talking to me.” He then eyed the servant who was cautiously approaching them.

Reluctantly, Brienne agreed. She was not lying when she said Jaime could convince anyone of anything. Upon arrival, the obsequious servant bowed to them.

Jaime gave his introduction to the small man who then rushed away to announce them. After a brief time, the servant scurried back, and they were then ushered straight to Lord Baelish, who awaited for them in the main audience chamber. 

The young Lannister spied that the large circular hole in the middle of the room was wide open. Obviously, Baelish had done this for their benefit. “Hello, Ser Jaime.”

After making sure Brienne noticed the death trap, Jaime then mockingly ‘burrs’ out loud to their host, “Lord Baelish, so good to see you again. Though I am surprised you haven’t caught your death of cold yet from that draft.” 

Littlefinger’s usual condescending smile graced his lips. “Oh, not to worry, I have no problems keeping warm here.” Baelish had been surprised when he was informed they had guests. Then it became more worrisome when he was told that it was a Lannister. One never ignored such a powerful family without dire consequences.

Baelish was shocked that Jaime was even here. Last his spies told him, the young Lannister was on his way to Casterly Rock to rule it. This was most peculiar and added to his uneasiness regarding Jaime’s intentions. Cersei Lannister had put a rather large bounty on Sansa Starks head.

Apprehensive, Baelish now studied the small group before him and frowned when he noticed that one was a woman, surprisingly one who he was familiar with. Littlefinger focused on the bruised featured woman. He recalled that she had been one of Renly’s personal Rainbow guards.

Jaime noticed Baelish’s interest in Brienne, and quickly got the attention back to him. “Oh, my manners, this is my traveling companion, Lady Brienne of Tarth and her squire.”

“Yes, we’ve met briefly before.” Littlefinger did a tight bow. Brienne nodded curtly back at him. 

Internally sneering at her, Baelish felt he needn’t worry about the female warrior interfering with his plans. She appeared too dazed to stand even straight, and her squire kept glancing at his feet. Hiding his shock, Littlefinger then recognized him as Lord Tyrion’s missing page. Out of all of them, he was the one most likely to recognize Sansa Stark. But still he dared not turn them away, it might raise suspicion.

He then surreptitiously considered the last occupant in the party, Ser Jaime Lannister. Baelish knew he was far more cunning than many people thought. Most believed him only to be good with a blade and a sharp tongue. But he was a Lannister after all, and their father did not raise fools. Though this could be a dangerous game, it was one that Baelish was confident he could master.

Feigning indifference about the whole court proceedings, Jaime waved his hand about. “We wish to offer our condolences, Lord Baelish. I am sorry to hear that Lady Lysa has passed away.”

“Thank you, Ser Jaime. Your words are most appreciated.” Littlefinger then did another little bow to show his gratitude.

Jaime did not hide his yawn well, and his rudeness made Baelishs teeth go further on edge. Bored, the young lion motioned about the room, “Yes, yes. And we were wondering if we could speak briefly to young Lord Robin for a moment.”

Now Littlefingers grin became predatory. “I’m afraid he is out spreading his goodwill among his subjects.” Baelish was surprised to see that the Maid from Tarth deflated a little. 

Jaime inwardly scoffed at Lord Baelish’s machinations. If Lady Lysa were still alive, her sickly little brat would still be suckling at her teat! This chicanery smelled of Littlefinger. Instead, Jaime stated blasé, “I see, too bad.” 

“Yes, I’m afraid the young lord won’t be back for a few more days. But for now, I am in charge.” Jaime raised an eyebrow at that comment which did not get lost on Lord Baelish. “So how can I help you?”

“It just concerns family business, nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well as I said, he won’t be back for some time.” Sick of the games, Baelish decided to try his hand at bluffing against the young Lannister. “Though I am surprised you haven’t any concern about showing up at Catelyn Stark’s sister’s home. The last Lannister they entertained was nearly killed. Though I had heard your brother did enjoy his stay in the Sky Cells.” 

He saw the female tense, hand grazing the pommel of her sword. Maybe she wasn’t as out of it as he thought.

Jaime did not move one bit, just raised his eyebrow a tad as if questioning Baelish’s wisdom with such a threat. He had rested his golden hand on his hip and tapped it lightly on his sword belt. It was a stark reminder of how rich the Lannister’s had once been. Baelish had kept the books; he knew they were nearly broke. 

Littlefinger played out his implied threat perfectly, though, “But then that was Lady Lysa’s belief. I am always loyal to the King and his family.”

“Of course you are,” Jaime practically purred out.

Brienne’s eyes briefly rested on his smug profile and then went back to staring straight ahead, trying to appear tough.  
The continued tapping of his golden hand on the ornate filigree echoed throughout the cold chamber. He was tired of Littlefinger taking away his options and figured it was time to go on the offensive. “You know it has been a long time since a Lannister has been a welcome guest here. I was wondering if it would be possible to speak with the council. In private.” It was not a request.

Baelish hid his concern well. He had no idea what Jaime could want with them, but then his twin sister Cersei had wanted Sansa Stark’s head on a pike… If he could not attend, he would have no power to control the council.

With a cocky grin of his own, Baelish gave them the bad news, “I am afraid all meetings are on hold while the council members are out of session. But I would be more than happy to present them with your issue when they reconvene.” 

‘I bet.’ Jaime thought. Disinterested he rubbed his golden hand against his shirt as if to polish it. “No, I am afraid this is something we must discuss with them.” He turned to the woman, “Guess we are here for a few days until an emergency council meeting can be arranged.”

Baelish practically paled before them, “Well I do not wish to keep you from your travels.” He worried that the longer they were there, the more likely that they might stumble across Sansa. Still he could not turn down the King’s Uncle’s request.

Littlefinger quickly began formulating a plan. Maybe a little change of venue was needed so that he could both observe and control. “I can contact those council members still in the area and we can certainly have an impromptu dinner party tonight if that would be acceptable for you. A matter of fact, I insist on it.” Pleased with his machinations, his smile was full of teeth.

Jaime knew that all of this was a manipulation, but he could not outright refuse the invitation since he had insisted on the proper edict to begin with. It would have helped if he had the official support of his father. He can certainly bluster all he wanted, but all it would take was a little bird to confirm that Jaime was acting on his own.

He gave a small curt bow in capitulation, “Yes that would be fine.” Again Brienne tensed, but all ignored her. “Now I was hoping for some rooms. As you can tell, we are weary from our travels.” He now acknowledged her exhausted form and Lord Baelish seemed to mock them with a presumptuous bow.

“Yes, of course. I will have chambers ready immediately.” He signaled his servant, and it was quickly set up for them. With a formal bow of his own, Jaime and his small party then followed Baelish’s aide out.

Littlefinger rubbed his beard in contemplation and then left the room.

*

They made sure not to talk with one another as they wandered down the hallway behind the servant. Eventually, they arrived at their chambers.

Once safe in her room Jaime smiled at her drained and concerned features. “I don’t know Jaime…”

He nodded understanding her worry, “You’ll feel better once you’ve rested, and then we can talk.” She reluctantly agreed.   
Jaime and Podrick then went off to investigate the Keep. It was evident that even the usually cautious Lord Baelish was hiding something.

*

After a few hours of fruitless snooping around the Keep, Jaime knocked on Brienne’s chamber doors. Since there was no answer, he brazenly entered. The sight before him made him smile. She had collapsed face first onto the mattress, snoring softly.

Jaime hated to wake her, but it was necessary for her recovery that she ate as well as rested. Knowing how nervous she got around others, he had a feeling that tonight there would be little food consumed. He carefully placed the plate of food on a nearby side table. Then grabbing onto one of her boots Jaime yanked it free. Instantly, she was awake and up on her elbows, staring at him. Blearily she relaxed as he pulled off the other boot. 

Brienne winced as she turned over and propped herself on some pillows. Through slitted eyes, she watched as he sat next to her and held up a piece of fruit. She hated to admit this, but she liked him helping her. Internally scoffing, she stubbornly snatched the food out of his hand.

“Thank you,” she said gruffly.

He nodded, a smirk gracing his lips. It seemed as if he could always read her so easily. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. At least, with Jaime, she knew she could trust him not to use it against her in a malicious way. Teasing was acceptable but to a limit.

Between careful bites, she asked, “Why didn’t you ask him about Sansa?”

The recalcitrant Lannister shrugged and offered her another piece of fruit, “Even if she was here, he’d never admit it. Besides the bounty my sister has on Sansa’s head, Baelish has always had some odd obsession with Tully women.”

“Then the dinner?” She hated those things. 

Exhaling, Jaime breathed out, “I had hoped to skip that myself, but we have to take whatever advantages he gives us. He does not know about your honorable pledge, so we have that to spring on him in front of the council members.”

“I don’t know, Jaime. Baelish is very clever.” Brienne tiredly leaned back into the pillows.

“Exactly, Littlefinger might never give anything away, but I bet a council member could unwittingly reveal the truth to us. They are not as well versed in the art of subterfuge as he is.”

He held up a piece of fruit and was surprised when she distractedly took it in her mouth. As she chewed pensively, she asked hopeful, “Do you think they’ve seen her?”

Shrugging, he was sorry to see her expectations dashed. “Well, most of them know of the Tully’s if not met some of their family members. Surely some of them, at least, knew her mom. I am sure we can find out something, at least where she could be headed to.”

Her eyes reflected far off contemplation, then she sneered out, “They would never tell us anything. They think we are the enemy.” 

Sighing, Jaime stated, “We are— well, at least, I am.” She ate another slice of sticky fruit from his fingers. He was surprised that he rather enjoyed feeding her. For someone so large, she certainly ate daintily.

“The Hound accused me of being on a Lannister leash.” He could hear her anger, but there was also a tired acceptance to it.

He snorted. “He said that? No wonder you knocked him off the cliff. He apparently did not understand the strength of your character.”

As she mulled over things she once again took the piece of fruit offered into her mouth. This time, her lips briefly touched his fingers, and her eyes flared open in surprise. She then noticed that his had dilated as well.

Nearly licking his fingers, Jaime then realized the situation. As if burned, he quickly snatched his hand back and then tried to play it off as nothing had happened. Her eyes usually so readable glanced quickly away, her face hotly blushing.

“Um, well, yes.” He stammered. The usual cocksure Jaime Lannister was stuttering to his best friend. Unsure about the sparks he felt when her lips touched his bare skin, he stood up and made a show of smoothing out his apparel. “Well, you best get some rest. Tonight is going to be very arduous.”

With a curt nod, he hastily left her room. 

Brienne leaned back again and frowned. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction. She instantly assumed that he was ashamed of her, everyone always was. But then she knew Jaime well and wondered if perhaps there was something more. With the memory of his fingers still making her lips tingle, she settled further down, the need for rest suddenly overcoming her conflicted emotions. It was those same jumbled thoughts that followed her as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

*

Jaime stared at her shut door. ‘What was that all about?’ Scrubbing his hand through his features, he then decided he needed to grab Podrick. He thought to send the squire to the kitchens in the guise of just being inquisitive. Surprisingly the young man had a way of drawing out people to trust him. Again he would make sure to warn the squire to watch out for traps and secret doors.

He recalled the layout pretty well. Many years ago, when he stayed here briefly after the aborted attempt to engage him to the then young Lysa, she had shown him all the secret passageways throughout her Keep. With a sigh, he made himself focus on finding the errant Stark girl. There had to be some news about her. 

*

Littlefinger had noticed how weary the Tarth woman was. She had tried to hide the sway in her stiff stance, but he could tell that whoever had beaten her had done more damage than she let on.

He knew the Lannister’s very well, but not this Maid. He was surprised to see her with Jaime. Last time in Kings Landing, the young Lannister had sent her quietly away. And now he was curious why she was once again with the Kingslayer. They had not brought many personal items with them, but maybe something among their belongings would give him some ideas as to why they wanted to talk to the council.

Giving a few hours for her to settle down, he then used a secret passage behind the bookcase in his study to sneak into her room. Unfortunately, he found nothing but some meager possessions in her bag. He was about to leave dissatisfied when she began to make noises in her sleep.

As she fitfully tossed and turned he thought, ‘No doubt still pining for that deceased upstart Renly Baratheon.’ He had noticed how she had stared at the young ‘King’ and Littlefinger quickly deduced her feelings for him. How pathetic. She was now moaning in her sleep, no doubt remembering Renly. To his surprise the word that so reverently graced her lips were, “Jaime…”  
It was said with such adoration he now knew who had taken the place of her previous paramour.

He grinned, interesting indeed.

*

Just before dinner, Jaime met Brienne outside her room and hid a smile. Littlefinger was using the ridiculous technique of humiliation on them. Though Jaime could still make his ill-fitting clothing look dashing on him, the too tight yellow dress made Brienne feel so obvious and clumsy that she almost stayed in her room. He reminded her to keep her chin up and be confident. She glowered and pulled once again at the too snug dress. If she thought that pink monstrosity from Harrenhal was atrocious—

But Jaime said she looked fine, and besides, the object was to keep the others on their toes, not them. 

She asked petulantly, “And how are we going to handle them?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Brienne groaned, she was starting to doubt his verbal abilities. “Now, now wench, just follow my lead.”

“Fine.” She ground out. Usually, his silver tongue had consequences… not all of them positive.

Pleased she was letting him handle this he took her arm and laced it through the crook of his right. It was a habit in case she had to draw her sword. And she wished she had one on her hip right now.

Since they were the ‘guests of honor’ they were the last to show. It wasn’t a large gathering, but most of Vale’s council was there. Each one held their open disdain for Jaime Lannister, but they were also curious about his rather large traveling companion. 

As Littlefinger introduced the members, Jaime realized he hardly knew any of them except for the two that had been on the council for years. Seemed Baelish was already integrating his friends and allies into the council. He certainly moved fast, and Jaime wondered what his father would think about all this.

Jaime made her introduction before Littlefinger could, “Let me present to you my companion, the Lady Brienne from Tarth.”

There were a few raised eyebrows and hushed comments. “Wasn’t she the one who killed Renly Baratheon, basically destroying Robb Stark’s chances of aligning with a much larger armed force?”

Lord Baelish took in their scandalized murmurs and smirked.

Jaime caught Brienne’s concerned gaze and slightly shook his head to prevent her from yelling out her innocence in frustration.

Instead, as any gentlemen would, he pulled out the chair to the right enabling her to sit down. He had practiced this for some time until it was seamless. He would hook his right foot around the leg of the chair and drag it out just as he tugged above with his left hand. Jaime was rather proud of himself and Brienne hid a secret smile of pleasure that only he could see.

The others soon followed suit, now and then casting a suspicious glance at their host. Littlefinger waved his hand and appetizers began to be served.

Jaime churlishly said delighted, “Oh wonderful, it’s those little pastries that I like so much!”

Baelish frowned as his guest shoved a few offered to him off of the plate with his golden hand and onto his own.

Irritated at his guests rude behavior —which only got more severe as Jaime quickly finished off his wine and shook his cup for more — Littlefinger wanted to take control the conversation. Leaning over towards the other council members, Baelish conspiratorially whispered out, “I can personally vouch for the Lady Brienne. The Tyrell’s have long since accepted her innocence regarding this, and it has been readily assured that someone else had assassinated Renly Baratheon. As for Stannis’s involvement—” The rubes chuckled at his declaration and nodded pleased at Brienne. She bobbed her in thanks to Lord Baelish, and he graciously smiled in return. 

Personally, Petry Baelish would have been grateful to her if she had killed Baratheon. It had indeed made it easier for him to convince the Tyrell’s to align their large forces with the Lannister’s instead of the Stark’s. 

As Jaime studied Baelish’s pleased far off glance, an idea hit him on how to manipulate the new Lord of the Vale. With his smile tight to his teeth, he resembled a young lion as he slurred out, “Besides, everyone knew Renly was a traitor, and if she did kill him she had done the real King a favor.” He instantly used his golden hand to press down on her thigh to prevent her from lurching to her feet and strangling him. 

Noticing Brienne’s shocked, hurt look, Baelish decided to pounce, “All life is valuable, Ser Jaime. I am sure the Lady Brienne did what she could to protect him, false King or no. It was her pledge.”

“Ah, yes. A Knight’s oath.” Jaime’s deriding tone set Brienne’s teeth on edge.

Brienne side-eyed him and it was a good thing she knew Jaime so well, or she would have knocked him out cold. 

Jaime hardly acknowledged her, but his fake, chilled hand never left her thigh. Anytime she appeared as if she was going to leap up, he’d apply some pressure. Through the fog of anger, she would feel his touch and calm somewhat. She was momentarily surprised that the feel of his icy golden hand on her leg did not bother her. Regardless of impropriety, it was still Jaime, and she received peace from that. Brienne wondered when that had changed between them, and frankly, she did not care anymore.

“But you are a Knight, Ser Jaime, the Commander of the Kingsguard.” A young member of the council stated confidently.

“Was.” He held up his golden hand. “I am afraid I cannot protect the King anymore.” He took a deep gulp of wine. Jaime once again hid his false hand under the table as if embarrassed by its existence. Now he gently scraped it along her thigh, but it was not in a sensuous manner. It was a subconscious move that he did to sooth himself. Her calming presence reminded him why he was trying to right the wrongs he had done.

Cursing, Jaime held up his empty cup, “More wine damn-it!” As it was quickly refilled he grumbled out, “My father now insists that I head over to Casterly Rock to rule it. I am to take a wife.” He spoke angrily into his cup, and the council members moved uncomfortably in their seats.

Carefully they study the large homely woman next to him that was doing her best not to melt away from embarrassment. She did not seem to be beautiful or smart and as if reading their minds, Jaime laughed, “Oh don’t be so surprised about her, and she’s more than she appears to be. She killed the Hound.” He grinned at their shocked expressions and took another big gulp of wine.

Everyone’s estimation of her rose, and she became very self-conscious of their stares. The blush from her radiated heat. His golden hand stopped it caress, and he pressed down on her leg. “She’ll make a fine bodyguard as well as a wife.”

Misreading her quiet demeanor, Littlefinger predictably came to her rescue, “I am sure she has other qualities.”

Jaime chuckled into his drink and shrugged. If it was at all possible, Brienne blushed even more, and the bright redness of her skin clashed horribly with her yellow dress and fading facial bruises.

Irritated at Jaime’s demeaning attitude, Littlefinger coyly asked, “Casterly Rock seems to be rather far from here, my Lord.” 

Jaime stopped in mid sip and frowned at Lord Baelish as if to ask, “So.”

“And you are here why?”

With a nonplussed shrug, Jaime stated bored, “My Lady has some pledge that she must fulfill before she marries me.”

Now intrigued, all eyes are once again on Brienne. She took a quick sip of wine and as strongly as possibly she stated, “I pledged on my honor to Lady Catelyn Stark that I would return her daughter’s to her safely. Even though she is dead, I still will fulfill my oath to her.”

Jaime had been pretending to ignore their reactions and was pleased that at least two glanced worriedly to one another. It made sense; they were the ones who had been there the longest in power. Jaime was beginning to enjoy court intrigue and kind of understood why his father reveled in.

Lord Baelish was a pro though, and did not give away his hand but he did notice those two council member’s reactions. 

“Though that is certainly an admirable promise my Lady, what does that have to do with us?” Baelish purred out, and flashed her a smile that he had been told could be quite charming. 

“I had hoped that the Lady Sansa had sought refuge with her aunt Lysa and might have come here.”

The slight murmur of denial was heard among the council members. “Has there been any news?” Brienne’s voice was desperate, “Please if any of you has heard of anything, even rumors, please let me know,” she pleaded out. 

Jaime knew she wasn’t acting and lightly rubbed her leg in support.

It was such an unsavory sight to see a masculine woman so close to tears. It made her appear even more young and innocent, even naïve. Baelish noticed that the one of the older council members were about to say something comforting, so he spoke over her quickly, “I am sorry Lady Brienne that we cannot help you.”

Brienne’s disheartened gaze dropped and she bit her lower lip sadly.

All could see she was fighting back tears, and her sorrow moved even Jaime. As her eyes shifted downwards, she lightly nodding her head in thanks and then meekly went back to eating her food.

Jaime removed his hand from her thigh and lightly smacked her on the shoulder with it. “Good, now that this foolish quest is over, we can get married.” Everyone at the table glared at the jovial Lannister, who went back to enjoying his cups, maybe overly so.

“Yes, my lord,” she said quietly. Jaime was impressed with how well she played her role, but then with Brienne one was never too sure. She was just so honest. He would talk to her later about it.

Just then the main dish was served, and Jaime joyfully clapped his hands together. The gold covered steel hand made an odd hollow sound that echoed throughout the quiet chamber. Thankfully they had cut his meat for him.

Baelish sneered at Lannister’s blatant disregard for the woman. She must be a saint to put up with such a brute. Though she wasn’t much to look at, he did think she might be useful down the line.

“Tell me, my Lady, how did you fare so well against the Hound?” Baelish smiled sincerely at the blushing Maid, who put down her fork to answer.

“It was not easy, but thankfully he will no longer be bothering anyone ever again.” Was all she would say about it.

Nodding in understanding, Littlefinger tried a different tactic of compliments, “Well, congratulations on your nuptials. I am sure a young woman such as yourself will produce many strong children. Certainly with your size, there will be no worry of — producing small things. Why they will practically be the giants of the Lannister family.” 

As the guests chortled at his well-meaning jape, Jaime seethed. It was obvious he was alluding to his younger brother Tyrion. Now it was Brienne’s turn to rub his thigh. “I will do my best to fulfill the needs of my obligations.” And again, that was all she would say about that.

Lord Baelish tossed out a few more veiled compliments that soon made Jaime enraged as well as surprisingly jealous. Only he could talk to his wench like that. Quickly he schooled his features. He was supposed to be playing the role of a bored suitor.

Growing annoyed at the lack of responses from his guests of honor, Baelish guided the rest of the dinner conversation into unremarkable small talk and soon some had to hide their yawns.

Surreptitiously Littlefinger studied in the young lords drunken demeanor and realized that Jaime would no longer be a concern. They would never find Arolne Stone; she was too safely hidden away in the Keep. Besides, now there was no reason for them to stay past tonight and they will be gone early in the morning.

By the end of the dinner, Jaime was so obnoxiously drunk Brienne had to pick him up to drag him from the room. “Thank you all for your courteousness. My fiancé and I are most blessed for it.” She stuttered out to the patient guests.

As she hoisted him further onto her shoulder, Jaime mumbled something not as pleasant to them. The occupants smiled sadly at her and nodded at her inner strength.

When they left the room, Brienne overheard one say, “Good thing she is big enough to carry that drunken oaf.”

Getting closer to her chambers, Jaime continued the pretext of being offensively inebriated. Once she got them inside her room, he suddenly straightened and grinned merrily at her.

He kissed her on the forehead, “You were wonderful!” Noticing her pout, he enthused, “Ah wench, you had them practically weeping for you. They would do anything to save you from having to marry that horrible Lannister brute, brilliant!”

“But it did not work,” she leaned weakly against the closed door.

Tapping his chin a moment, Jaime nodded. “Hum, actually there might be two we can work on.” As he took in her exhausted form, she would still not look him in the eye. “You knew I was acting.”

“Of course I knew. But it still hurt what you said about Renly.” She angrily began to pace.

Jaime frowned at her hostile reaction; she could not possibly still have feelings for that dead man. “I had said them to you before, actually worse about a throne of cocks or something or another.”

That memory made her smile for a second. Jaime caught the smirk and hid one of his own. Still she seemed on edge. “Tell me, wench. What is it?”

“You could have told me about the ruse,” she chided out in a whisper of embarrassment.

“Sorry, it just came to me to play your obnoxious suitor. As usual, the noble Baelish fell for it.” He grinned at how well they worked together. It reminded him of when they had been on the road sneaking back to King’s Landing and having to bluff their way across the countryside.

Weakly, she explained, “I just feel bad deceiving the people who naturally want to look out for Sansa.”

“Oh please. Don’t tell me you fell for Baelish’s gallant behavior.”

Indignant she stopped pacing and glared at him. “Really, you see me as someone easily swayed like some love sick idiot, taking any compliment as a promise of one’s heart? I go by people’s actions Jaime, not by their words. And Lord Baelish uses his words very well.” She resignedly sat down next to him and tiredly began to pull off the decorative borrowed shoes that horribly pinched her feet. 

Holding up his hands, he nodded appropriately chastised. “Understood.” Spying her throw her other shoe violently into the corner, “My Lady, you aren’t taking this engagement seriously are you?” He teased out at her. Her glare shut him up. He nudged her shoulder lightly to remind her it was a jest and then rose to his feet.

“Get some rest while I see what your good squire Podrick has found out. Don’t worry Brienne, we’ll find her.” She reluctantly agreed to follow his suggestion. Partially carrying him had taxed her more than she thought it should.

Glumly nodding, she waited until he shut the door before she practically ripped off that hideous dress. Finally, she could breathe.

After putting on her night clothes, she unenthusiastically pulled back the covers and got into bed. She didn’t know what irritated her the most. The thought of marriage or that he had been using such a precious vow as a means to get information.  
No longer carrying, she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

While Brienne slept, she had a horrible dream. She dreamt that as she clutched Jaime’s lifeless body to herself, the dead decaying body of Catelyn Stark demanded that her children be returned to her as Brienne held Jaime’s lifeless body. In the background stood Stannis and his witch Melisandre mocking her for all her failures.

The young Maid woke up gasping for air, her fingers tight near her throat as if to fend off an attack. The oppressive feeling was so heavy, she began to cry. She knew if she failed at this pledge then that left only one other oath. The one that would truly mean the end of her life. 

Brienne knew that by taking revenge for Renley’s murder she herself would never see Jaime again. Though she could easily find a way to kill Stannis and his witch there was no way she would survive the encounter. Their taunts on her ineptitude continued to echo in her mind and more tears fell. 

Suddenly, there was a light tap at the door and Jaime entered unannounced. “Sorry, just wanted to check that my bride was okay…”

He found Brienne holding her head, now sniffling. Carefully he approached and studied her muddy features. She looked even worse. Her face was red and blotchy which only seemed to highlight the odd purple greenish color of her fading bruises. Her visage nearly made him exclaim, ‘My Gods, you look like a rainbow!’

Instead he sat down next to her on the bed, “Brienne, please talk to me. Are you in pain?” He did not use his usual mocking wit to get a response from her. His request was heartfelt.

“I am such a failure, Jaime. I cannot do anything right. I cannot even find a child!” Now at her final limit, Brienne collapsed into his arms, crying all the harder. He rubbed her back and comforted her as best he could. There was only one other female in his life that had ever trusted him enough to break down in front of him, but as always it still made him feel uncomfortable. He knew for her to show such vulnerability, things must be dire indeed.

“You are not a failure.” He emphatically stated, “You’ve just had a run of bad luck. She’ll turn up, I promise.” He tucked a piece of straw color hair behind her ear. “I know they know something. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand. Trust me, they will help you if it means extending your quest so I cannot marry you.”

She mentally disagreed, but allowed Jaime to try to make her feel better. She did secretly enjoy his attention and he did seem to care for her. ‘But he was a good friend,’ she would vehemently remind herself whenever she felt the flutters begin to occur. 

Jaime then spoke softer, continuing to lightly touch the area near her ear. It was such an adorable shape. “Now I wouldn’t be surprised if a note mysteriously found its way under your door in the morning that gives us some clue as to the Stark girl’s whereabouts.”

She slowly nodded pulling back and then leaned her head on his shoulder. He laid his arm behind her head and held her close.

He was oddly satisfied that it was not his sister that he was consoling. Brienne’s body shape was different, but he did not mind, she just felt right. Before he could think more deeply on his feelings for the wench, Podrick races into the room. Jaime was surprised by his sudden appearance. He had never found him and assumed that he had gone to bed early.  
“She’s here!” The young squire proclaimed. 

He quickly told him of how it had occurred. After having no luck with the servants, he decided to lurk around in the shadows during the dinner. Turns out he wasn’t the only one.

Podrick was surprised when he had stumbled upon some brown haired girl in a regal dress spying on the whole evening affair. At first her profile appeared vaguely familiar, especially in the weak light. But it was when she turned to him startled by his presence that he would know his Lord’s wife anywhere. As he breathed out her name, a horrified Sansa Stark ran away. He tried following her, but she seemed to disappear into the shadows.

Jaime knowingly nodded, “Crafty girl.” He thought a moment and his flash of a smile grew wider when he saw Brienne’s eyes sparkle in joy. “Show us where you last saw her.” He commanded out.

*

Recalling where the then young Lady Lysa had shown him the hidden passageways throughout the Eyrie, Jaime remembered the area where Podrick had last seen Sansa. Though it had been a number of years since he had stayed here and though only briefly- he grinned to himself grateful that it was a rather short courtship - he could still easily remember something as amazing as secret passageways. The young lad in him was fascinated by the possible adventure of it all.

It took some doing, but they finally tracked Sansa to a secret room and surprised her with their sudden appearance. Sansa quickly cursed her curious nature. She just had to go observe the dinner to see what the Lannister wanted.

She was about to call out for the guard when a familiar looking young man stepped forward. “You must come with us, Lady Sansa. It is not safe here for you.”

Sansa recognized her husband Lord Tyrion’s squire, Podrick. The young Stark was about to answer when she noticed that Jaime Lannister was lurking behind the young man. “You have some nerve showing up here in my room, Kingslayer.” She hissed out.   
Sansa began to call out when a tall blonde haired woman was unexpectedly in front of her. She recognized her as well.

“My Lady, please. Podrick is right. This place is not safe.” The large woman’s husky urgency made Sansa pause for a moment.

“But you and the Kingslayer are to marry!”

“It was just a ruse to find you, my Lady.”

The young Lady studied this giantess of a woman. “But you are Brienne of Tarth. A while ago you brought the Kingslayer back safely home.”

“Yes, and…” 

“Then you are one of them.” Brienne bristled at the comment. Why couldn’t anyone believe she wasn’t a Lannister lackey? “I won’t go with you.” Sansa continued overly calm, “He is a Lannister. They destroyed my family.”

“Girl, it was pride that undid your family.” Jaime grounded out.

Brienne quickly spoke over him in hopes Sansa was not offended, “And I vowed to get you to safety.” She would not lose another Stark girl due to miscommunication. “You are coming with us.”

Now calm, the young girl tiredly stated, “But there is nowhere safe for me. The Lannister’s want me dead.” Sansa knew Littlefinger was bad, but at least she understood what he truly was. But then Podrick had been Tyrion’s squire and that Lannister had always been nice to her. He was the only one in that horrible family who had been. “Did my husband send you?”

Brienne stopped stooping and stood up straight, pride overwhelming her exhausted body, “No my Lady, it was your mother.”

Sansa glanced away, tears forming in her eyes. Brienne placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “She had me pledge an oath to bring you to safety.” 

The young Stark took in Brienne’s honest and heartfelt words but sadly shook her head. “No, at least here I have walls and an army to keep me safe.” 

And technically the Eyrie was one of the best places to be holed up in, except, “Not with Littlefinger in charge, my Lady.” Jaime evenly stated. He was constantly keeping an eye out for any surprises here. This Keep was renowned for horrible shocks and ‘mysterious’ deaths.

Sansa grimaced. The Kingslayer was right, Lord Baelish was not to be trusted. He was already making questionable…. overtures in regards to her. It pained her to think that she would once again be on the run, but it seemed as if there was little choice. Alas, she had vowed that she would never trust a Lannister again and so far she has survived because of it.

Podrick noticed the displeasure that Sansa had on her face as she regarded the young Lion before her, “I know you do not trust Ser Jaime, but I can vouch for Lady Brienne. She killed the Hound to free your sister.”

“Arya!” Sansa’s near instantaneous glee over the fact that her sister was still alive made Brienne glance away guiltily. “Is she alright? Where is she?”

With resolve, the Maid of Tarth stoically stated, “On her way to Braavos.”

“What? But…” Sansa could not believe that her next thought after relief was jealously that her sister got away from this retched land. Maybe she could too.

Misreading the emotions playing on the young Lady’s features, Brienne no longer spoke with assurance, but still with determination, “Your sister has changed as have you.”

Pursing her lips, Sansa then peered into Brienne’s bright blue eyes and recognized a fierceness about her that reminded her of her mother. Exhaling some of her resolve, Sansa stated, “Alright, but if I go with you, then where, Braavos?”

Both adults emphatically shook their heads, but Jaime left it up to Brienne to insist, “It is too dangerous there.”

Sansa nodded grimly and then realized she was not so envious of her sister after all. Why in the world would she go to that dangerous place? Suddenly overwhelmed with purpose, she knew she could never track down her family if she was safely cloistered here. But where could she go now that would afford safety and a means of finding her way ward family.

Brienne was also thinking about possible safe havens. She wondered about Tarth, but then feared the consequences should Lord Tywin find out.

Jaime was also mulling this over and suddenly laughs. “I know, we take her to Casterly Rock with us.”

All stared at him in shock, leaving Brienne to sputter out, “I hardly think the Lannister family home is safe for her. If your father found out…”

Once again his cocky smile lit up his handsome features, “How could he? He has said many times that he was never going to leave King’s Landing. It’s perfect. No one would think she would hide there. And she could be your maid.”

“Me?” Brienne stammered out indignant.

“Of course.” His arms extended out in a ‘trust me’ gesture.

Brienne snorted and then stubbornly stated, “I won’t be staying with you, so you’ll need another story for her. And before you ask, no she cannot go where I am going.”

“What?” his green eyes reflected his shock. He had figured she would stay on with him at the Keep.

“I have to leave, I still have another pledge to fulfill.” Staring him purposefully in the eye, Brienne would not be deterred.

Now it was his turn to nearly sputter, “You cannot go to Braavos for Arya.” She truly was insane.

“No, Stannis.” She grounded out his name as if that was what she was going to do to him.

He frowned, then cursed at her. “Damn-it Brienne, this is madness.” Her stubborn chin spoke otherwise. He shook his head, tabling this discussion for later. Once he got them to Casterly Rock, if needs be he’d have her imprisoned until she saw reason. For now he needed to buy himself some time, “Let us first complete this quest, then we will discuss your other pledge.”

Brienne chastely nodded. “Fine.” Yes, she mustn’t get ahead of herself, she had to remain focused. Turning to her new ward, she asked, “My Lady, does going to Casterly Rock meet with your approval?”

Though it would be risky, it would be a better place to be able to safely track down her family. Sansa bobbed her head in approval.

Podrick spoke up, “Um, how do we get her out of here.”

Staring a moment at Sansa, Jaime again smiled. “I am sorry my dear, but we will need to cut that beautiful dyed hair of yours.”  
Wincing, Brienne then stared at the paling young woman, “Would that be suitable, Lady Sansa?”

Though she had been accused of being vain, if it was the only way to achieve freedom and finding her family, then so be it. Her resolve now strengthened, Sansa agreed.

Pleased at how easily this was going, Brienne nodded to Jaime, “Good, then we leave in the early morning.” 

*

Just as the sun began to peak over the horizon, the small traveling party gave their leave to Littlefinger’s aide telling him not to bother to wake his Lord and master. Jaime lechery grabbed Brienne around the waist and made some vulgar comments about not waiting another minute longer until he could finally get married.

The servant stared at Brienne who tried to act like a chaste bride but she seemed more angry than bashful. Her titter sounded too deep as it went through her gritted teeth. Jaime mutely shook his head, then pulled her along close beside him. 

She forced herself to play along, and though she enjoyed the feel of him holding her, she still was a maid and this was very dishonorable. Finally she shoved him just far back enough in what she felt was considered decorum (at least among witnesses).   
Once they reached the exit to the Keep, a disguised Sansa and Podrick meet them there. Jaime shook his head in irritation. Even with her hair cut short and in masculine clothes, she was still too regal in bearing. “Can’t you slouch a little?” he asked critically. “Just take a page from the wench.” He jerked an aggressive finger at Brienne who hissed back in retaliation.

Sansa hauntingly grounded out, “I am doing the best I can.” Then Jaime got an idea and pulled Brienne once again close.

Soon, they all purposely strolled down the narrow rocky corridor, trying to make it seem as if they were not rushing to the exit of the Bloody Gates. 

Brienne felt naked without her armor but tried to act natural. Unfortunately this was not working so well for the young lady with them. Even with her new appearance, Sansa Stark was still more feminine than the Maid of Tarth could ever be. Thankfully by making her carry Brienne’s armor and padding it seemed to help cover her up better. Still the guards on duty gave the party odd looks.

Frankly even in their furs, the Eyrie’s guards were still quite cold as the winter winds continued to pick up, and they frowned at the two short sleeved individuals who sauntered past them. Jaime quickly covered up his chattering teeth by stating, “Such a lovely day, we decided on not wearing our armor. Come on, Podrick!” 

At the Bloody Gates, the lead guard stopped Jaime as he studied their party, “Did you add a number to your group?” 

“Oh you must mean Lady Brienne’s squire. Tiny thing, must have missed him on the way in. Come on boy. Thank you again for such a wonderful visit.” Jaime added cheerfully and the guard could not help but smile in return. The grin began to wane as he continued to closely scrutinize the retreating party.

Jaime was glad that he had thought to have Podrick carry his armor as well. This guard was not as dense as they normally were and that certainly would have raised unwanted questions.

As they got closer to the stables and the guard barracks, Brienne leaned over close, “I don’t think he believed you.” 

He nods in agreement and they quickly wake Jaime’s guards. Hastily they reach their horses, but he stopped Brienne from putting back on her armor, “No time for that, we need to ride now.” Though she was loathed to accept his suggestion, Jaime was right. Nonchalantly glancing over her shoulder, she noticed more and more of the guards were openly frowning at them.

In no time they load their possessions on the horses. Then they clamor onto their saddles and race off. Both Sansa and Podrick have to share a horse, but they easily keep up. 

As they enter the twisty jagged path through the tall rock formations, the suspicious lead guard at the Bloody Gates purses his lips and then orders one of his men to contact Lord Baelish. 

*

Due to rocky treacherous terrain and not knowing the area well, it doesn’t take long for Littlefinger’s lead garrison of guards to catch up to them. Jaime’s party is quickly surrounded and forced off their horses. All the Vale guards then dismount cautiously and approach the small party with their swords drawn. The lone archer stood back, arrow ready to fire at will.

Though the garrison wasn’t a large force, Jaime’s group was out manned nearly 3 to 1. “Give up, Kingslayers.” The lead guard from the Bloody Gates jeered out at them.

Brienne shoved Sansa and Podrick away towards the protection of the rocks, “Keep her safe.” She hissed out at her squire and was already back by Jaime’s side. 

Sneering, the lead guard stepped back and let his soldiers attack. He wasn’t worried about them trying to run away, he had the archer poised at the ready to shoot them down.

Even outnumbered, Jaime and Brienne fought well together. Unfortunately Jaime was not at his previous skill level and one guard eventually got through. The blunt side of the blade hit the Lannister hard on the head, knocking him to the ground. Brienne slashed backwards nearly slicing off that guards arm and now stood over the Kingslayer, defending him as best she could with both their blades.

Suddenly from the corner of her eye, she saw that the archer was aiming at them. Quickly she shoved the dazed knight further down and an arrow suddenly slammed through her left shoulder instead of Jaime’s head. She instinctively jammed Oathkeeper into the ground to prevent herself from falling forward and impaling him with the projectile.

Her pained cry made him glance up into her tearing blue eyes. The arrow was close enough so Jaime could see the blood that dripped from the sharp point. Her blood. 

Jaime’s sword then fell from her numbed grasp. 

The guards rushed forward and they were both quickly surrounded. Fleetingly they could hear that the battle around them was winding down, their hopelessly outnumbered team were falling back into a defensive position. 

Baelish’s lead guard leered down at them. Indicating where Sansa and Podrick hid he ordered out, “Tell the Lady give herself up and your deaths will be quick. Though that would be a mercy after all the trouble you two have caused.” He was now closer to them, “But wait, what is this, a woman? I thought you were just an ugly man. What are playing at, girl?” The taunting and jeers soon became louder as the garrison realized they had won. That usually brought the cowards closer and the obnoxious main guard led the verbal assault.

Brienne knew she had failed. Failed at saving Sansa, failed him. The weight of guilt was crushing and her clear blue eyes gazed into Jaime’s quiet green ones.

As Jaime stared back into hers, he saw pain and sadness … and something else. Something he had never noticed before –rage. Whatever the battle with the Hound had awakened, it had not been put back to sleep for long.

Jaime was still dazed from the blow to his head, but he believed he could somehow talk his way out of their deaths. He would suggest that they use them as hostages instead of killing them. But before he could brashly say anything to convince them otherwise, Brienne screamed in rage at the taunting Leader. Suddenly she swung Oathkeeper around backwards practically slicing the advancing man’s leg off. As he collapsed downwards with a cry, she slammed her dagger into his mouth, silencing his japes forever. 

“Shut up.” She grounded out. She did not even notice as she yanked the dagger free that her arrow struck arm no longer felt numb with pain. Instead it felt alive with tension and purpose.

Instantly she rolled to her feet, swinging her valyrian blade around with the insanity of a berserker and with a wail to match. A nearby guards head flew free and bounced to Jaime’s feet. 

Before the archer could fire again, her thrown dagger impales his eye and he goes down in a shriek of agony.

Jaime staggered to his feet and shook his head trying to clear it. Blurrily he stared at her crazed but elegant form. He had always thought Brienne’s fighting was impressive, but here she was magnificently brutal. Her normal fluid dance had become pure base savagery, more of hacking than lunging.

Another guard fell before her, screaming as blood shot from a stump where his sword arm used to be. 

She moved on and Jaime shoved his sword’s blade through the twitching man’s body, silencing his moans of pain forever. The young Lannister followed behind Brienne, knowing smartly enough not to get in her way. In the state she was in, she might mistake him for a foe. He stabbed another guard who had a gash that slashed deeply across his face. Most would not survive the wounds inflicted by her, so he considered this a mercy killing.

The next guard falling towards him had nearly been cleaved in half so he did not have to finish her kill. He shoved the gurgling man aside and stabbed another who had tried to come up on her blind side. That was the problem with these blood lusts, all sense of battle training leaves. He continued to guard her flank and soon the others in their party joined the fray.

Her banshee like cries, howls and grunts continued to echo eerily throughout the forest. It did not take long for the odds to slip into their favor and realizing that they were losing, the remaining garrison began to retreat.

One of Jaime’s personal guards was yelling in fun as he stabbed a fleeing guard easily in the back. Brienne’s mania seemed to be infectious and soon the entire opposing garrison was either dying or dead.

Afterwards the others of their party began to gather near Brienne, with Podrick approaching the crazed bloody woman first. The arrow’s wound had been aggravated from all the movement and copious amounts of blood now leaked from her shoulder, making her already pale features appear ghostly white. 

“No, stay back!” Jaime yelled at Podrick, who quickly did as he told. The wounded warrior seemed to not acknowledge anyone, and once no one was further challenging her, the energy seemed to quickly dissipate and she her knees buckled.

Oathkeeper now lay forgotten on the ground at her side and Jaime cautiously approached her.

“Brienne?” He asked hopeful that she had come down from her battle high.

Her sweaty head had been drooping and she could barely look up at him. She could now only use her right arm and it shook as it prevented her from crashing flat onto the ground. Her left now felt useless and on fire.

“Now Podrick.” Both Jaime and her squire kneeled down next to her to access her wounds. Already she was shivering from the adrenaline and blood loss. As they took care of her, his other guards went around checking on the dead or dying garrison troops.

Peering at her pale pain clinched features, Jaime hissed out, “You are no longer supposed to protect me, wench.” He rests her against his body and holds her tight as Podrick snaps the back of the arrow off. Pushing her shuddering form slightly away, he then quickly yanks the pointed end free from her shoulder making her scream out in pain. With Podrick’s help, they then use strips from Jaime’s cloak to bind her wounds. 

“There’s one still alive.” He heard one of his guards state nearby.

Jaime goes to them and leans over the dying guard, “Tell your master to leave us alone.”

“You and that ugly cow are going to die through the Moon Door…gak!” Jaime’s dagger easily found the man’s heart. 

“Never deem to talk that way about her, ever again.” As he pulls free his blade he easily states, “Guess that will be our message.”

Brienne was barely conscious when he made his way back to her and Podrick. The young squire glanced up at Jaime in alarm, “It’s too far to Casterly Rock. She’ll never make it.”

“We take her to King’s Landing by boat. It shouldn’t take long to reach the harbor from here.” He kneeled over her, about to drag her to her feet.

Her good arm reached up and her hand fisted his collar tight, “No, can’t take Sansa there. Take, take me home. Let me say goodbye to my father.”

Trying to hide his concern he gruffly demanded, “Don’t talk like that.” 

“Promise me you will take me home.” She rasped out.

Already he could see that she was close to passing out. Quietly he vowed, “Yes, wench. I will take you home.”

Satisfied, she relaxed her grip and her eyes shut. 

Jaime motioned some of his guards over. “Help me get her on my horse.” He didn’t trust her to sit on the back of the saddle, she could easily fall off. Once situated in front of him, he carefully wrapped his gold hand around her middle and held her close. Then taking the reins in his other hand, he whispered fervently in her ear, “Keep fighting, Brienne. Fight to live… Fight for me.”   
Though his head wound made him woozy he would not fail her.

“Sansa, ride her horse. You others, follow us.” He barked out and led the small group to where the nearby harbor was.

They raced towards the town, arriving at the dock yards in record time.

Jaime quickly spied a large enough boat with a small enough crew. Then after offering quite a bit of coin, loudly convinced the Captain to take them up North to the Great Wall post haste. Once terms were agreed upon, they all quickly boarded the vessel, carrying their wounded comrade with them. 

They were already underway when they got Brienne settled in one of the larger cabins. She was falling in and out of consciousness, mumbling to herself. After making sure she was as comfortable as possible, Jaime left to have a word with the Captain.

As they sailed out into the open sea, Jaime stood on deck and noticed that Littlefinger had just personally led a larger garrison onto the docks. Even from here Jaime could see the fool’s smugness vanish when he caught the sun light bouncing off of Jaime’s waving gold hand. 

With a chuckle, Jaime went to discuss a change in travel destinations to the Captain. He was sure that with the promise of additional coin, it would remain a secret. Hell, he’d give him his gold hand if he had to. He certainly wasn’t going to need it for much longer. Jaime was already figuring out new design plans to adapt his stump to hold a sword. For once he’d get what he wanted, not what his damn family did.

Lord Baelish cursed as the boat left the small harbor. He demanded that the dockyard workers tell him where that boat was going. They only shrugged and replied that they had overheard that the boat was heading up to the Great Wall. Littlefinger cussed again. He nearly demanded that another ship take them up North, but there were not enough big boats to carry them all and he was not going to underestimate Jaime’s small party again.

Regardless, he needed to scurry back to the Eyrie to protect himself in case there was any forthcoming retaliation. He knew that when a Lannister was slighted, there always was that chance.


	4. Chapter 4

After the promise from the Captain to keep himself and his small crew quiet about their true destination, Jaime slipped back into the cabin that Brienne had been carried into. All it had cost him was the gold hand that served as a constant reminder of less pleasant realities.

Upon entering he spied both Podrick and Sansa sitting by the large woman’s incoherent rambling form. Blood still seeped through the bandages. Sighing loudly in worry and frustration, Jaime held up his covered stump at Podrick, “You are going to have to stitch her up.” He then frowned when the squire paled.

“I’ll do it.” Sansa quietly stated. For once her embroidery skills will have another purpose. She weary took the needle from Jaime. Her hand automatically seemed to go towards some weapon hidden among her borrowed trousers. Jaime snorted to himself and then just focused on helping his wounded friend.

Brienne was going in and out of consciousness as the young Stark took the needle to her shoulder. They first had cleaned it as best as possible, but still there was always the risk of infection.

Afterwards, they carefully placed many blankets on Brienne’s shivering body. Podrick and Sansa then shared a concerned glance, which caused the Lannister to gruffly sit down next to Brienne.

“I’ll look after her. You two should eat something and then get some rest. The Captain told me we will reach Tarth in two days’ time.”

Podrick glumly nodded and Sansa still would not look him in the eye. Once they left, Jaime hunched over Brienne’s quaking body, “You need to get well, wench. I cannot continue our oath without you. That girl can barely stand being in the same room with me as it is.”

He tiredly rubbed the back of his head, it still ached from the blow he had taken earlier. With an exhausted shrug, he found some room on her bed and laid down next to her. He belatedly realized that with a head wound he should not sleep, but then he was never one to follow the rules. So he instead delicately rested his hand on her hip and shut his eyes. He’d just rest them for only a moment.

*

The next two days had been very trying on the three of them as they tried to keep Brienne comfortable. And though she was barely conscious most of the time, at least she was still alive. Jaime exhaustedly stayed with her, only venturing out onto the deck when Podrick insisted he get some fresh air. Thank Gods the seas had been calm, he feared what state they all would have been in otherwise.

His head still ached, but he just tiredly ignored it like he usually did with his injuries. Now he just remains by her side, trying to get her to drink water, doing anything to abate the fever that had overtaken her the night prior. Even in this state, she still shivered from the cold. Frustrated at his inability to do anything more for her, he made sure she was taken care of as best as possible.

Not surprisingly Sansa never visited whenever he was in the room, instead preferring to be as far away from him as possible. It was just as well, all he saw were ghosts around her. Some of whom he had delivered to her himself.

The next morning when he awoke next to Brienne, he noticed she was unconscious and her breathing was very labored.   
After frantically trying to ruse her, he gave up and rushed up onto the deck. Podrick saw him and pointed excitedly at a small island not too far from them. Jaime smiled relieved as he took in the sapphire blue waters. They had made it. 

Thankfully it did not take their boat long to reach the shores of this tranquil island.

The docks of Tarth were practically empty as the fishermen had already gone out earlier that morning for the days catch. Which was good, Jaime wanted as few witnesses as possible in regards to their arrival.

Carefully they carry Brienne off the boat and are able to commandeer a cart. After tossing a coin to a young boy, Jaime ordered him to find Lord Selwyn and tell him that his daughter had been gravely wounded.

As they quickly pushed the cart towards Evenhall, the imposing figure of her father came limping purposely towards them. Jaime now knew without a doubt where Brienne had gotten her stature from.

Lord Selwyn scowled at the small party, but his features instantly softened when he took in his daughters ailing health. He barked out at the young boy, “Tell Maester Benedict to meet us at Evenhall.” As the boy ran off, the Lord of Tarth frowned at the Jaime, then he hissed out to them, “Quickly, follow me.” In no time they were within the small Keep. 

An older man wearing a Maester’s chains strode forward. Lord Selwyn addressed him as Benedict, and pleaded with him to help his daughter. Brusquely the healer checked her over and then he ordered them to take her to her old chambers. Already the man was barking out ingredients that he would need to his young apprentice.

After shoving open the door to her room, they anxiously deposited Brienne onto her bed. As Benedict began to remove the bandages, he grimly sighed, then shooed the others from the room. Jaime was hesitant to allow her out of his sight, but the Maester had been very stern with him. “I have been the family healer before she was even born.” He took pity in regards to Jaime’s gaunt worried features. “If anyone can survive this, it would be her.”

Then he shut the door, leaving Jaime’s small party in the hallway. A tearful Selwyn quietly stared at the Lannister, making the young Lord nervous. He knew the father had questions, but now was not the time for explanations.

The Lord of Tarth was about to demand answers when the encumbered apprentice rushed past them and into Brienne’s room. They tried to get a look inside, but all they saw was bloody cloth and a loudly frustrated Maester.

Lord Selwyn tiredly sighed. “Come with me. Benedict will seek us out once he is done.” He was still the Lord of manor and needed to be the proper host. But he assured himself he was going to find out why his beloved daughter, who had been gone for over two years, came back in such a sorry state.

Jaime and the others glumly nodded and then followed the large man from the hallway. 

*

After making sure his guests had a place to rest, Selwyn and Jaime sat alone in the man’s cozy study. The blazing fire warmed the room considerably. After telling Brienne’s father the condensed story of the past two years, Lord Selwyn fell back into his chair and grimaced. That was his daughter alright, never doing anything half assed.

He was about to ask for more details when Benedict came into the room. Though his hands were clean, his sleeves were stained in blood. Selwyn pours the exhausted man a cup of wine.

After drinking half of it, he nodded and relaxed. “I did all I could. There might have been something on the arrow though, already an infection has started a fever.” He took another sip and smiled, “But she is young and strong. Now the rest is up to her.”

“Can I see her, please?” Jaime practically implored.

After studying Jaime’s tired and waxen features, the Maester pursed his lips, “Only after I check your head wound.”

Jaime hadn’t thought of his injury for the past two days and shrugged. After a quick check to his scalp the healer smiled, “I see you have a hard head. That will come in handy with that one.” He indicated the direction where Brienne slept.

Jaime began to sputter out the usual comment of just being friends, but Lord Selwyn was giving him an odd look.

“You are Jaime? She kept saying your name.” Benedict nearly chuckled out loud at the young man’s worried glance to the larger Lord. Selwyn’s gaze was focused on the fire and not at what was just said. Jaime didn’t know if he should feel relieved or insulted. “Now may I go?”

Lord Selwyn absentmindedly nodded. He had a lot to ponder and pray for now.

The young Lannister curtly bowed and strode off to Brienne’s room. He planned on praying to her personally to wake up.

*

That night Jaime sits with her as she groans and mumbles incoherently. He continues to dab her feverish forehead with a damp cloth she mutters in her delirium, “Jaime… behind you. No!”

He crones out in a low calm voice, “It is not real, wench. I am right here. No one is going to hurt me.” Quietly he adds, “But only you if you leave me.” 

As he continues to try to keep her quiet, he does not notice the large form in the doorway until it is too late. He leaps up and spins around automatically reaching to where his blade would normally be. His stump brushes his empty belt.

“Relax, boy.” Lord Selwyn gruffed out. Then he stared at his daughter in concern.

Jaime follows his gaze and purses his lips. Embarrassed, he sits back down at her side. 

After studying the young man a little more, Selwyn then grabs a nearby chair and sits.

The young Lannister does not care for the scrutiny from the father and instead focuses on the delirious woman who every now and then moans out Jaime’s name in abject fear.

“You two have been through a lot together.”

Nodding Jaime would still not look at the father.

“What is this between you two?” Now he used his concerned father voice.

Honestly the Kingslayer was not too sure, only that he cannot stop thinking about her and of wanting to be always near her.   
Jaime instead turns and challenges out, “Your daughter means a lot to me.”

The father continued to study the young man. He did not see a fearsome Lannister, but a man who appeared to be as lost as his daughter. “You better not break her heart. She might be strong physically, but her emotions are just on the surface.”

“I am well aware of your daughter peculiarities. But she also has a strong and rightful heart.” The young lion went back to lightly pressing the wet cloth on her sweaty features.

Selwyn nodded absently, “Do you know what happened with Renly?”

Jaime loudly sighs, he knew he should let Brienne tell her own story, but he could at least allay some of her father’s concerns.

*

After her father eventually left, Jaime continued to sit by her side. Maester Benedict came by and said Jaime should take a break as well. He in turn promised he would once she had settled down. 

“I’ll come back later to check on you both.” The Healer’s announcement sounded almost like an admonishment and Jaime smiled weakly and nodded that he would do as he was told.

Podrick and Sansa then came by briefly and offered to help, but Jaime insisted he would personally watch over her. They sadly sighed and left. 

Still feverish, Brienne mumbles irrationally in her sleep. Exhausted, he continues to pat her brow with a damp cloth, hopeful to break it. “Jaime…” she whispers, her eyes now open and staring into his.

He grasped her good hand that weakly squeezed his back, “I’m right here.”

“Please don’t make me leave you again.” Her cloudy blue eyes were wide, stuck in a time ago when they had last parted.

“I won’t, I promise. I won’t let you go again, Brienne.” He softly reassures her. “Now rest, I am right here.” Finally she closed her worried eyes and seemed to relax more into a sound sleep. Pleased that she seemed better, he stood up and stretched. Making sure she was still deeply under, he left to quickly grab some food.

“I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” He promised her quiet form. He still had much to figure out. Once she got better, they would be taking Sansa back with them to Casterly Rock as they had originally planned. His new worry was how was he going to convince Brienne not to continue this suicidal pledge of hers to kill Stannis? He wondered what her father would say about it… ‘Hum, but first a restorative.’

*

Brienne prowled the corridors of Evenhall like a wraith. With her pale features and billowing tunic floating eerily about, it almost made her seem ethereal. A surprised Jaime just happened to come across her as he made his way back to her chambers.

Suddenly he found himself pressed against the wall, her feverish body warming his considerably.

The dagger that had been held to his throat was quickly pulled away. “Jaime,” she harshly whispered, “We have to be careful, Littlefinger has spies everywhere.”

He husked out in concern, “Brienne, you should not be out of bed.”

A small group of Evenhall’s guards rounded the corner and momentarily faltered at her appearance. Unsure, they tentatively touch their pummels. She automatically placed herself in front of Jaime, hunched over for a fight, dagger at the ready.

“Relax, fools. This is the Lady Brienne.”

Confused, they stand up straight, hands still brushing their scabbards.

“Come Brienne, let’s get you back to bed.” Addressing the lead guard, “Have the healer brought to her room. Now!” They quickly dispersed under his commanding tone.

Confused to her surroundings she plaintively asked, “Jaime, what?” But instead of answering, he plucked the dagger free from her sweaty grasp and then effortlessly pulled her along back to her room.

They enter and the Maester is already waiting for them. “Get her on the bed.”

She was still disorientated and partially fought him, until the healer’s commanding tone catches her attention. “Brienne, it’s me, Maester Benedict. Now I need to you calm down.”

“Uncle Benny? We’re home? I thought I only imagined my father’s voice…” relief flooded her and they easily got her over to the bed.

“Yes, child. Now be a good girl and lie down before you rip out your stitches.” Wincing, she leaned back onto the pillows. He then placed a cup under her lips, “You need to drink this.”

Brienne refused. “Always was a stubborn child. I’ll need your help.” He indicated for Jaime to hold her tight, and then Benedict grabbed her nose and made her drink the entire cup.

After gagging a little, she groused out, “Tastes awful.”

“Most good medicine should.” Benedict heartily agreed. “Now get some sleep.”

Reluctantly nodding, she had already shut her eyes. He then quickly checked her wound. The Maester tiredly sighed and then motioned Jaime over for a quiet chat. “Thankfully she did not cause any further damage to herself. But I am worried. Until her fever breaks her delirium might make her do something drastic.”

Jaime exhaled out his concern, “What do you suggest?”

The older man’s eyes still were focused on his patient, “She needs to be watched constantly.”

Tiredly, Jaime nodded.

Now the Maester studied the exhausted person standing next to him, “And you young man, cannot do it all yourself. You also need your rest.”

The usually brash Lannister wearily agreed, “I’ll send for her squire and maid for help.”

The healer smiled pleased and left.

Jaime silently vowed that he would sleep in the same room with her even as the others watched over her. He knew Sansa would just love that, but what choice did he have. 

He just could not leave Brienne’s side. They had wanted to keep their presence quiet but now thanks to her haunting the hallways, word of their arrival would soon over run the small castle. Some of Renly’s most trusted soldiers had fled here and most were still loyal to the young Lord’s memory. He did not want to risk the chance that someone might come in here for revenge.

Besides, she wasn’t kidding about Littlefinger having spies everywhere.

*  
Thankfully by the next morning her fever broke.

Exhausted, she laid propped up on her pillows, staring out her window into the bright sunlight, “My father must hate me.” Jaime silently fed her another spoonful of broth. “He sent me to protect Renly and I allowed him to be killed.” He wasn’t surprised that that seemed to be still on her mind. It had been a rather traumatic event in her young life and it would have been the most egregious act of dishonor if it had been true.

“First of all, your father would never think you were capable of such a thing. Second, your father and I have had a little chat about you.” He held up another spoonful for her.

“Oh?” she weakly grimaced, then sipped from the spoon.

“Yes. He is very protective of you.” Jaime said testily and she smirked at his consternation. He seemed rather embarrassed about the whole ordeal and she decided to spare him from revealing anymore.

“How is your head?”

He frowned at her change of topic, “As hard as ever.” He was surprised she didn’t want to go into what he and her father had spoken about regarding her. But then it was just as well, she would not appreciate them conspiring against her.

Turning towards him brought a grimace to her pale features, “No, I saw you get hit. Show me.”

“What? I don’t think….” He stuttered out.

She became angrier, “You pulled out that damn arrow so you owe me.”

Dropping the spoon into the half-finished bowl, Jaime glowers as he leans over her. Expecting her large calloused hands to be gruff, he was instead pleasantly surprised when her warm fingers gently ran over his scalp. Still she easily found the hard lump. He realized that when her light touch was pulled back he missed the feeling.

Stuffing down those feelings, he decided she was ready for the news.

“I had sent two crows out when we first arrived. One was to my father warning him of Littlefinger…” he gauged her guarded features, “…and another to Jon Snow about keeping his sister safe up at the Wall.”

Now she gazed hopeful at him. Could her oath to the Lady Stark nearly be over?

“Jon Snow says it is not safe there. Stannis’ forces have overrun it.” He hid the concern he felt for his younger brother being up there. But then knowing Tyrion, he was probably merrily drinking cups with Stannis as they speak.

“Stannis.” She hissed out. He knew that calculating look.

Jaime once more grabbed the spoon to feed her. He had to keep his hand busy so he did not try to strangle the stubbornness from her, “No, Brienne. You are not to seek revenge.”

She spat out, “My first oath was to kill him for Renly’s murder, but my vows to Lady Stark prevented me from doing so. Now that my pledge to her has been fulfilled to the best of my abilities, I can finish this.” 

For once he was actually glad for his father’s interference. “You can’t.” He cheerfully stated, “Not now at least. We’ve both been summoned to King’s Landing.”

She grimaced angrily. Why did he have to tell his father about Littlefinger? ‘Maybe because he should already be at Casterly Rock and not helping you fulfill your promises.’ She chastely reminded herself.

Suddenly concerned, her blue eyes caught his green ones, “Does he suspect about Sansa?”

He snorted and fed her another spoonful, “If he did, he would have sent more than a crow. No, they bumped up my sisters and Loras wedding and wish us to attend. It’s in a week from now, but he wants us there as soon as possible.”

She heard his bitterness and glanced away. Jaime had been very forth coming about he and his sister’s relationship while he had been in Robb Stark’s captivity. She remembered how he said it so cockily, trying to get a rise out of Catelyn Stark.

As Brienne clutched his hand in sympathy, Jaime forced out one of his patented arrogant grins for her benefit and she let go. “It’s for the best.” He was surprised he wasn’t more jealous of Cersei and her marriage to Loras. When she was betrothed to Robert he nearly challenged the King to a duel for her.

Exhaling, she leaned back into her pillows, “When do we have to leave?”

Forcing out jovially Jaime announced, “Maester Benedict says you will be ready for travel in two days time.”

Then it dawned on her, “Can we trust your guards not to reveal Lady Sansa’s whereabouts to the Hand?”

He laughed, “After seeing you fight, they wouldn’t dare.” More serious he states, “You won them over when you saved their lives against Littlefinger’s garrison, Brienne. They would follow your command, more so than mine.” He had finished the comment with a little lilt in his voice.

Her gaze of incredulousness made him bark out a laugh, until he took her hand and whispered, “And they wouldn’t be the only ones.”

Both stared into the others eyes and a new spark seemed to grow there, or at least was finally acknowledged by them. Jaime then went back to quietly feeding her.

*

The next day her father came by to talk and by his manner it would be more than just finding out how she was feeling. Benedict had said she would be strong enough for travel tomorrow, so that meant she was well enough to hear what he had to say.   
Though he’s honestly impressed she had brought home one of the most eligible bachelors in Westeros, he was still weary of the Lannister’s. 

Earlier he had straight out asked Jaime his intentions with his daughter and in un-Lannister like fashion, the young man shrugged and did a weak laugh. He then quickly explained to the enraged father that they were just very good friends and he would never do anything to hurt her or impugn her family name.

Selwyn could still tell that Jaime cared more for his daughter than he let on, but Selwyn did not want her to be hurt again. He knew she was probably infatuated with him as she had been for Renly and he tisked to himself. His daughter was never very good at reading people. If she had she would have known Baratheon did not care for women. But then the young Lord had been kind to her and that often won her over. 

He figured that the young Lannister treated her with respect. And that seemed to mean a lot to her, especially since it was so infrequently given. He needed to talk to her honestly about Jaime Lannister.

She sat in the bed and smiled weakly up at her father. She could already tell this wasn’t going to be a cordial visit.   
As her father sat on the bed, she could tell it was as if he was preparing for battle. She had only been gone a few short years but already she could see that he was getting old. He sat slightly hunched over and he seemed to be favoring his bad knee. Guilt flowed over her at the thought of not being here to help him run the island, nor the producing of heirs.

And like all fathers, without preamble he got right to the point, “You must watch out for that Lannister boy. That family is not to be trusted.”

“Father...” she said tiredly as if she was still a teenager and her father hid a grin.

But he would not be deterred, “I know you, Brienne. One hint of kindness and you are willing to give up everything for them.”

He really was never going to let her forget about Renly. How long was he going to hold that against her? “Jaime is different. He is a good man, a knight.”

“And the Kingslayer.” 

His rumbled out accusation instantly caused her to bristle. “That isn’t the whole story, father.”

“Oh?” Lord Selwyn did not sound like he believed her.

“When no one else would do it, he killed King Aeryn to save countless lives.” She felt it was unfaithful to tell Jaime’s past without his consent. Though it seemed recently he certainly did not have any trouble telling her father her own business. She was still upset he had revealed in grim detail how she had gotten the arrow wound and of how she had responded to garrison’s attack like a mad woman. She’d be surprised if her father ever let her leave the island again.

Studying her outraged features he glumly said, “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

She nodded and smiled. Clasping her father’s cool finger in hers, she vowed, “I have learned my lesson father. I will be very careful.”

And he could tell that she would be. It saddened him that her time away had hardened her so. His innocent blue eyed child came back a road weary veteran.

He fleetingly touched the yellowing bruise near her eye. “He told me you bested Sandor Clegane.” There was a hint on pride in his tone. He then angrily chastised, “It was very foolish of you to challenge him.”

“I did it to carry out an obligation.” Brienne gritted out.

Her father exhaled loudly, “Oh yes, your oath to Lady Catelyn Stark. Your friend told me of that too. About why Lady Sansa Stark is now here, hidden under my protection.” The accusation was in his tone. 

She’d have to ask Jaime why he was being so chatty with her father. She had thought it would be best if her father had gotten the truth from her, but then she had been unconscious when they had arrived…

“I am sorry father, I had no choice, there was no place safe for her to go.” He nodded in understanding, but he still did not like getting involved with court politics, especially with such a dangerous visitor as his guest. Intrigue was never his strong suit, only Brienne’s mother had seemed to have that ability and unfortunately that was not something inherited by his daughter.

“He also told me of your next oath.” She was so young, how many of these blasted promises had she already made?

She hissed out a breath, “He needs to learn to keep quiet.”

“He cares about you, you know.”

Nodding curtly, a shy smile briefly graces her lips. That was not the response he had wanted to see. “And he is right. You cannot go after Stannis to seek revenge for Renly’s murder.”

Still adamant she vehemently stated, “He died on my watch, father. A position I was sworn to uphold. If anything I have to avenge our name.”

He shot to his feet, “Damn-it, Brienne. You think I care about our family name!” he stared down into the blue eyes that were the only reminder of his dead wife, “You are what is important.”

As if she stubbornly did not hear him, “I know that witch of Stannis’ helped get Renly killed.”

“We had heard the rumors that he is with the Red God’s Priestess. But you need to stay away from them, Brienne. They are both dangerous.”

“So am I.” She grounded out.

He sat back down heavily, already weary, “Doesn’t matter, he has gone up North. Winter is coming.”

She tiredly sighed. “So is the rumor.” She remembered as a little girl how cold it had gotten then. Even near the Summer Isles it got chilly. Thankfully, the island seemed to not be as badly affected as the mainland was.

Regardless the change in the weather was not going to be a problem when it came to her killing Stannis. Her father easily read her stubborn expression and hoped that Jaime could convince her to not try anything rash.

*

They left the next day taking passage on a boat heading to King’s Landing. Sansa and Podrick would stay under her father’s protection. Well actually Sansa would be disguised as his bearer of cups, while Podrick would be his squire. Selwyn promised that he would train this squire of hers on how to use that battle axe he carried. She warned her father to be very patient with his two new charges and he gruffly agreed. Brienne then promised to call for them when they were headed to Casterly Rock, until then they were to lay low. Once safely at the Rock, she promised Sansa that she could start sending out feelers to her remaining family members.

At least by heading to King’s Landing they draw any possible focus on Tarth onto them. As far as they have heard, Littlefinger still thinks they are headed North to the Great Wall. Jaime planned that once they reached King’s Landing, he would send out crows with false leads on Sansa’s whereabouts. That should keep Baelish’s spies busy for a while.

As Lord Selwyn tightly hugged his daughter, he glared hard over at Jaime. The young nobleman nodded solemnly in understanding, he would look after the Lord’s child as best he could. Selwyn squeezed his eyes shut and released her. “Please try to write more.”

Guiltily she glanced away, then forced herself to stare him in the eye. “I promise, father.”

The Lord of Tarth then watched them board the boat and sighed. He vowed he would pray to the Seven once more to watch over his only child.

*

As the boat left the docks, Jaime planned to keep an attentive eye on Brienne. She seemed quiet, almost apprehensive about their trip. She was always introspective, but he really wished she she’d talk to him.

The next morning he knocked on her cabin door. Entering he was not surprised to see that she wasn’t there. She seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time on deck. He reasoned she could be reliving her childhood memories, but it was more than likely she feared she was going to his father to be imprisoned and wanted whatever fresh air she could have. He knew Lord Tywin would demand answers as to why Jaime did not go to Casterly Rock as he had decreed, and there was the problem. Just how much did they reveal? They needed to discuss this.

The morning air was crisp and as Jaime approached her, he noticed she was shivering as she leaned against the railing.   
Regardless of appearances, he removed his cloak and rested it carefully on her shoulders. She nodded her thanks and went back to staring into the calm seas that the vessel cut so easily through.

As she continued to frown, he nudged her lightly with his shoulder, “What are you thinking about, wench?”

She automatically shrugged and winced. He could guess what she was worried about.

Solemnly he intoned, “I will protect you from my family. I promise you that.”

Brienne nodded, but then sadly stated, “Yes, but who will protect you?”

He grimaced, that was a good question. Deciding her melancholy was infectious, he joined her in gazing contemplatively out onto the sea. He did find that in staring at the crystal clear waters had a nice almost hypnotic quality which was only seemed to be aided by the sunlight that bounced off of it. It certainly was nothing like his home at Casterly Rock. Now those were some dangerous turbulent waters. Which reminded him of the quandary of just what was he going to tell his father about that situation? Regardless of what he said, his father was going to be most displeased.

They both shared a loud sigh and then smiled shyly at one another. As he began to shiver from the cold wind that was accentuated the freezing seawater below, she leaned closer into his space and draped part of his cloak around his shoulders.  
‘Maybe they would just have to look out for each other,’ he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone again for the comments, Kudos, Subscriptions and all the positive vibes!
> 
> I also want to thank Moonlightof1982 with a great comment about Sansa's character. I tweaked this chapter a bit so hopefully it reflects on her character a bit better in this circumstance.


	5. Chapter 5

Their arrival in King’s Landing was a quiet affair, which was surprising. Usually a royal wedding brought out the festive in people. Now the people looked sullen as if wondering when the next horrible calamity was going to occur. He figured it was only fair. Both he and his traveling companion had been also rather quiet as they made their way into the Red Keep.

After getting Brienne settled in a room so she could rest from the taxing journey, he went to see his father in the Tower of the Hand. He figured it was best if it was on his terms. 

Once in the large study, Jaime pulled out the chair and dropped into it. He too was weary from their travels.

As usual, his father’s desk was cluttered with papers. He glanced up at his son and frowned, “Where is this Brienne of Tarth? I wanted to meet the giantess who had killed the Hound.” It almost sounded like a jape, and instantly Jaime’s hackles went up.   
Months ago when they first came back from Harrenhal, his father had refused to meet her. He had been too enraged about his son’s hand. And his sister had been no better, actually wanting Brienne’s head on a stake, or at least her hand in retribution. It had taken most of Jaime’s skill to keep her from being thrown into the dungeon. He admitted to them that she was the reason he had made it back to them alive. And it was true, he had almost willingly died after they had chopped off his hand. His father relented, but in true petty Lannister fashion, still did not personally greet her. 

Jaime still wouldn’t play his father’s games, and slouched more in his chair, “She is still recuperating,” he staccatoed out warningly.

The Hand raised an eyebrow, now curious by his son’s protectiveness of her, “Oh, wounds from the Hound?”

“Actually she took an arrow for me as we escaped Littlefinger’s garrison.” Tywin studied his son and was intrigued by the lack of flippant attitude that normally oozed off his son. When he spoke of this Tarth woman, it was almost in respect.

Lord Tywin nodded as if that explained everything, “Your note did not disclose why you went to the Eyrie with her.” 

There was one thing he learned from his father. Lies are better tasting when they are sprinkled with half-truths. “There were rumors that Sansa Stark was there under Littlefinger’s protection.”

Scoffing out, “I had heard of no such a thing.” But there was a hint of a possibility that he had.

Tense, Jaime hoped he was not falling into one of his father’s dangerous traps. “And you would be correct. They turned out to be unfounded.”

Tywin grimaced in regards to his son’s blasé attitude and then grumbled out displeased, “So his letter was true.” He tosses Jaime one of the smaller papers floating around on his desk. “Lord Baelish says that you two came there to accuse him of harboring Sansa Stark. He also stated that this Tarth woman had been there on behalf of some ridiculous pledge for Lady Catelyn Stark.” 

Jaime sat up straighter as his father raged on, “Is this why you did not go to Casterly Rock as you promised? You instead followed her to help her with this traitorous oath?” Tywin had been suspicious after his son suddenly wanted to honor his promise and rush off to Casterly Rock after he had received that crow. He should have known something was up when he later got word that Jaime had taken a boat to Riverrun. It was a very long way to go to reach their ancestral home.

Forcing himself not to react more, Jaime shrugged noncommittally, “I planned on bringing you the Stark girl.”

Tywin’s eyebrows rose mockingly. “You were going to take her from the woman who killed the Hound?” 

Vaguely insulted, Jaime snapped out, “Well, she isn’t at her best right now.” The Hand once again openly scoffed. Undeterred, Jaime continued, “Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore. All the leads have dried up so there is no reason to throw the Lady Brienne in the dungeon.”

“He also said you two were engaged.” Now he truly studied his son. Surprisingly his father did not sound as angry as Jaime thought he would be.

Jaime tried to hide a secret smile and the Hand wondered what the story was there. His son then shrugged, “I assure you it was all a ruse, father. The Lady Brienne is not interested in me that way.”

Tywin absentmindedly nodded cataloguing this information away for later. He remembered how worried his son had been when he had first received that note about her being wounded during her battle with the Hound. More and more he became intrigued by Jaime’s and this woman’s relationship. He knew his son well enough to know that he was holding something back. “It is a tricky game you play, boy.” 

His son nonchalantly waved his stump about, which made his father frown. He never did like the reminder of his son’s weakness. “Where is your hand?”

“I believe I left it near Harrenhal.” He chirped out then amended when his father glared at him, “I seemed to have lost it again. Must have happened during our fight against Lord Baelish’s garrison.”

Jaime didn’t appreciate the predator gaze that flittered about his father’s features. Suddenly, Tywin smiled ruthlessly, “Fine, tell me everything of your trip to the Eyrie.”

Frowning, Jaime then nodded. And so he spun their adventure as truthfully as he could… well, all but the things that would implicate Brienne as a traitor. Afterwards, his father naturally had some questions.

“If the Stark child wasn’t there, why did Littlefinger’s garrison attack you?”

“As I told you father, once we stumbled across the fact that he was filling the Council up with all his cronies, he knew we would get word to you that he is plotting against you. That letter he sent you was to deflect the truth that he is up to something.”  
His father seemed to accept this rational and internally Jaime breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now explain to me again why you went against your promise?”

Jaime exhaled, this was going to be a long afternoon.

*

When they first arrived at the castle, Jaime was surprised that Brienne did not put up a fuss when he dropped her off at her chambers with the order to rest. She actually eyed the bed almost pleasurably, but he wondered if it was due to her wounds or maybe it was something else. He had shrewdly studied her innocent features and realized she was up to something. He snorted when he figured out that she must believe this was the best way to avoid his family. He hoped she had that reprieve for at least the day.

Now he ambled his way back to Brienne. He wanted to warn her about Littlefinger’s damning correspondence. They never thought Baelish would personally contact his father about their visit. Though he wasn’t too concerned, he had been able to mollify his father enough that he doubted there would be any trouble now. Thankfully Jaime was able to keep mostly to the truth, and that was all Brienne could really admit to anyway. She was too honest to lie. He sighed. But then his father really disliked traitorous actions.

With his mind focused elsewhere, he did not notice his sister who suddenly ambushed him as he hastened past an open door.   
As she dragged him into the empty chamber, he belatedly thought, ‘Was she working in tandem with his father?’ After slamming the door shut, she began to passionately kiss him. As he tried to reciprocate, she said between pants, “I missed you so much, Jaime.”

He automatically replied, “I missed you to.” And his lips made a trail down her neck. They then continued to kiss and caress each other for some time. Though Jaime felt himself getting hard, he surprisingly felt empty of the joy or the intense lust that he usually had when he was in her presence. 

After a few more minutes of kissing, Cersei breathed out, “If you did miss me, then why did you bring that stupid cow back here with you?”

Jaime could not deal with her jealously now. He murmured distractedly in her hair, “Please don’t talk that way of her.”

He heard the sneer in her voice as she unapologetically grounded out, “You actually care for that beast?”

Pushing her slightly away Jaime stared into her eyes, “She is my friend.” Now he stepped back fully and gazed at his sister. Her lips were engorged from their hard kisses, but for once it did nothing to make her more attractive to him. He never realized until now how much she had changed, or how much he had as well.

She studied his quiet contemplative demeanor, “I can’t believe you, Jaime.”

Exhaling, he ran his hand through his hair, “I must go.” 

“Back to her, no doubt.” She spat it out angrily.

He tiredly sighed. Maybe some things never change after all. Cersei still resented anything he showed any interest in. Honestly, over the years he had never really paid attention to his sister’s jealously or if he did, it was usually concerning someone he did not care about. He would always reassure his love for her with a wonderful lovemaking session. Now though he was unsure what he felt for his twin. 

“Come, stay with me.” She pleaded and began to seductively remove her robe. He just now realized how drunk she was. What had happened to his sister while he had made his way home after being Robb Starks’ guest? Though to him that felt like it had been another lifetime ago and maybe it had been. He definitely had changed during that journey. Any time Brienne shyly smiled at him, he was reminded so.

Even as his father was grooming him for Casterly Rock he felt a distance forming between him and his twin. Once they used to be inseparable, but now they seemed to have nothing in common anymore but bodily needs. And frankly lately she just was not doing it for him. It did not help that she seemed to grimace in repulsion every time she spied his lack of a hand, which she was doing right now.

He frowned at his sister. Then without another word, he left.

Cersei screamed and threw the nearest object at the closing door. “How dare he?!” she hissed out. Well, she knew how to make him change his mind. It was time for him to remember that she was what was important in his life, not some ridiculous lovesick beast!

*

Brienne had been quietly hiding out in her chambers. After a pleasant nap, she now rested in a chair, dozing in the sun. An opened book about Targaryen Dragons sat half-forgotten in her lap. 

A light knock on the door rouses her. Then without waiting for a reply, Lord Tywin enters. 

Though she was startled by his presence, she figured at least it wasn’t that horrible Cersei. What she must be thinking now that her twin brought her here. The last time they spoke there was such an undercurrent of hostility that the envy seemed to ooze off of Cersei as if it was an affront.

Brienne struggles to get up and as she grimaces from the pain, he waves her back down. “Sorry I cannot get up to curtsey.” She grounded out.

He smiled pleasantly, “No, no. I was told you were recuperating from your injuries.” 

The Lord Hand then grabs a nearby stool and sat next to her. 

While she shut the book and made herself semi presentable, he closely studied her. She looked like hell. Parts of her face that did not have fading bruises were paler than her straw colored hair. The scrutiny caused her to twitch a bit. 

Tywin was impressed she had killed the Hound. The last time she was here he hadn’t really thought much of her. She seemed of lower class, someone not worthy of the Lannister’s attention. Besides she allowed his son to be maimed. Inspecting her, he wondered if she was the real reason his son had disobeyed his direct order to go to Casterly Rock and not some stubborn pride at holding off in fulfilling his obligation? ‘What was the pull?’ he wondered.

She was a homely plain looking woman. Honestly he was surprised Jaime even cared for her. Sure, Tywin knew of their dangerous journey together and how that sort of shared existence can turn to fondness for one another. But how could such a vain man, who could have any woman he wanted in all of Westeros, seemed focused only on this one, a non-beauty. Jaime claimed he didn’t love her, but he obviously felt something for her. But then her size was most impressive, and there was something about her bright blue eyes… maybe this could work in his favor after all. He had told his son that a one armed man needed a family and in this case she could be his protector as well. If she took an arrow for him it was obvious she would gladly do so again.

“Tell me, are you related to Dunken the Tall?” he innocently inquired.

She glanced away, fighting the urge to confide that she had always wanted to use Dunken’s banners and colors. But one thing she had roughly learned about court politics from her brief time here was tell as little personal stuff about yourself as possible.

Tywin patiently stared at her waiting.

“Um, yes, supposedly he was a cousin of my families.”

He nodded absentmindedly, “I want to thank you for saving my sons life, again. He told me you took an arrow for him.“  
Blushing she glanced away. The color seemed to make her freckles light up like fireflies.

“He has saved my life many times in return.” She smiled wistfully and he knew she would not be the problem in his plans for his son. Jaime felt protective over her and she certainly must over him to continue to take his punishment. 

But now it was time to remind her who was in charge here. Not his son, that was for sure. And he certainly couldn’t have her running around subverting his rule. “My son admitted to me of your oath to Lady Catelyn Stark.” 

Her worried gaze travelled to the window and she knew it had not been a good idea to come here. He coolly grinned at how easy she was to read. Her father must have never made her go to court.

“But he assured me that Sansa has disappeared without a trace and Arya is on her way to Braavos. So this pledge of yours is done, correct.”

It was not a request. “Yes, my lord.”

He feigned outrage. “So you admit of your allegiance to the Starks!” The fool fell right into his trap. She was too naïve and awkward to go against what he wanted for his son. Already sensing an easy manipulation, he was about to accuse further when her quiet fury interrupted him. 

“I never served the Starks, only Lady Catelyn and that was to bring your son home to you and to bring her daughters safely back to her.” Her voice had risen a bit. She knew this was dangerous territory, but she would not lie about her sacred oath, it was one of the few things that was still hers. 

He snorted and sat back studying her more. Now he made out the proud chin and defiant eyes and he weakly smiled. He could recognize what his son saw in her. A person with honor. It was a dangerous stance to have, but it could also be advantageous for him.

“And you swear that you are through with this oath of hers.” His tone was not negotiable.

She exhaled, “As you said, the Stark girls are gone.” Besides, she had another pledge she planned on taking care of soon. His stare was beginning to unnerve her. “Yes, I swear, my Lord.” She hastily added.

Though he hadn’t planned on his son getting married so soon, one had to take any opportunity given when it came to his stubborn oldest male child. Decision made, Tywin smirked as he thought of his son’s future and more importantly the Lannister legacy. Nodding to himself, he knew these two would produce heirs who would be very strong and imposing, but hopefully with his sons looks. But then the older Lord wasn’t too worried, power was an aphrodisiac after all. 

“Very good.” He stood and went to pat her shoulder, but stopped himself as she eyed it wearily. “You can’t have too many allies with the Lannister’s, my Lady. I will not forget that you have saved my sons life on more than one occasion. And such dedication is a debt that will be repaid.”

‘Was that his way of saying she was forgiven?’ she thought, but then was concerned. No doubt there would be strings attached. The sooner she got away from here the better. He seemed to be waiting expectantly for something. Oh yes, “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Also, there will be a welcome home party tonight and I expect you both to be there properly attired.” Fortuitously she had brought some suitable dresses with her after they had left Tarth. 

“Yes, my Lord.” She hid the tired sigh in her tone.

After a slight bow to her, he left.

With an exhale she stared at the door. She had a feeling it would be a good idea not to hide in her room anymore. But there seemed to be nowhere safe to retreat. With her luck, that horrid Lannister sister of Jaime’s would come by to pay her respects.   
Slowly she stood up from the chair and made her way over to the closet. Maybe it was a good idea to get some fresh air after all. She wondered what must have caused Jaime to reveal their secret and worried what else he was divulging to others – like his sister.

*

Brienne wasn’t in her room and Jaime hoped she had left willingly. He cursed himself for allowing his sister to hold him up like that. At first he feared that his father might make an impromptu visit, especially since he had asked quite a few questions about her later in their conversation. Then a worse thought had occurred to him that his father already had her arrested and tossed in the dungeon. No, he was sure he would have heard some sort of commotion then.

He quickened his steps wondering where else she could be when he heard the familiar sound of soldiers on the practice field. There would not be many places she would feel safe here…

Following his gut feelings, he exited the main building to the practice yard. After surveying the area, he then spied a hunched over figure slowly making their way toward the nearby covered area. Jaime snorted. She was rather large to go unnoticed, besides he’d recognize that lumbering gait anywhere. 

After finding a place in the shadows, Brienne leaned against the wall to study the participants. The Mountain seemed to be doing his usual training of beating the living crap out of any comers.

Jaime went up to her silhouetted form.

She was so engrossed in watching the huge man bludgeon someone that she did not see him. “You should be in bed healing.”  
It startled her, but she did not turn to him, “I needed the fresh air.” She grounded out.

He loudly exhaled, “Ah, my father came by already.” She mutely stared ahead, but did not react when the Mountain maimed his opponent. Jaime lightly grabbed her chin and turned her to him. “And I am sure he accused you of many things.”

Glaring deeply into his green eyes, Brienne grimly nodded. He had to reassure her. Surprisingly having Brienne thinking that he betrayed her hurt more than most things should have, “I did not tell him until he forced my hand. “ She frowned as he continued, “Lord Bailish was thoughtful enough to send him a letter about our real reason for going there. Yes, Littlefinger must be very obsessed if he was willing to give up his hand so readily.”

She groaned, that had never been a thought. “I am surprised your father did not have me banished. When can we leave Jaime, it is not safe here. I know your father is up to something and I feel as if a noose is tightening around my neck.”

Clasping her good arm in his, Jaime tried to reassure her, “It will be okay, Brienne. I won’t let him hurt you. Just a few more days and then we can go to Casterly Rock.” 

She didn’t care where they went, she just needed to get away soon. She sniffs, “He’s making us go to some ‘Welcome Home’ party tonight.”

“Well, it is in our honor.”

“It’s for you. Besides, my shoulder is still very sore.” She wheedled, trying to get out of having to go.

Knowing what she was attempting to do, Jaime would have none of it. “You cannot hide from these people your whole time here, Brienne. Come with me to the party and we will have fun.”

She gave him a jaundiced glare, she really hated these sort of things.

“For one night we can take our minds off of pledges and things. Think of it as a friendly date between two comrades.” He added low, “A celebration for freeing Sansa Stark.” 

Silent, she resumes studying the fight before them. Both wince as the Mountain slashes viciously at his opponent.

“My, I haven’t seen such fortitude since your rout against Littlefinger’s garrison.” She side eyed him in irritation.

“Fine, I will go with you to this… party.” It was as distasteful to her as having to wear a dress.

Jaime could already hear the amendment in her voice, “But…”

“I will not dance with you.” She curtly nodded as if to make it official.

He nearly laughed at her seriousness and then with a mocking bow, “On my Lady’s command.”

This time she did hit him. Then she asked with a sigh, “So tell me what else your father spoke of…”

Jaime then retold what occurred, but of course with flourish.

*

Once she had calmed down, Cersei decided to follow her twin. True to form, he went right to that lovesick cow. She studies them as they now talked, both too focused on the other to notice her. Instead of approaching them, she surreptitiously heads over the Mountain who had just finished destroying his last victim. As he is pats himself dry, he then stiffly bows when he sees her near.

“Your Grace.”

As usual, Cersei’s smile is a thin line of contempt, “See that great beast of a woman over there.” She pointed over at someone who was talking quietly to her twin brother, Jaime Lannister. The Mountain’s gaze followed her hand. Next to the Kingslayer was a large person of nondescript gender, “That is the Maid of Tarth. She is the one who killed your brother.” 

He closely scrutinized the imposing woman. He thought she appeared rather plain and homely and at first believed her to be a man.

“She was the one who killed Sandor?” Last he heard his brother had run off like the dog he was and had died in some duel. “He was killed by a woman?” he laughed humorously, but then stared intrigued at the person who bested his brother in combat.  
“Yes, my brother says she is a demon in battle.” She could tell that Clegane was getting more interested.

“And you say a Maid from Tarth? She has a title then?”

Cersei was pleased that he sounded enticed, “Yes, and if I may say so, I think she’d make a good fit for you. And you would be doing me a favor…”

Fascinated, he listened to his Queen.

*

That evening, Jaime came by to pick up his partner for the dinner party.

As he eyed the pretty green dress that fit her so nicely, “My Lady, you look very beautiful tonight.” It was said without mock and she blushed at his scrutiny.

“And you my Lord also look most resplendent.” Jaime smiled at her in return.

“A new dress?” He inquired. 

“Actually, it was one my father had made for me.” She did not go into how it was to be for her ‘many’ betrothals that never came.  
Then with her arm through the crook of his, they made their way to the party. Jaime noticed how worried she appeared and held her hand tighter. It was a reassuring hold and she was grateful for his support.

Arriving in the main hall for the Welcome Home party, they encountered a festive affair. Brienne insisted that Jaime enter first and as his friends and well-wishers converged on him, she began to sneak around them. Or attempted to. Jaime instead grabbed her arm and pulled her over.

“This is my good friend, the Lady Brienne. I expect all of you to be pleasant to her.” The threat was clear, keep to your manners and you will survive the night. She smiled slightly at him and nodded her thanks.

It wouldn’t have mattered, all had already heard the rumors that she had killed the Hound and were demanding she tell the tale. Some had even heard the tales from Jaime’s guards on how she had almost destroyed Lord Baelish’s garrison single-handedly.  
But first there were other more pressing matters to attend to. Glancing up, Jaime noticed his father sitting next to the young King. “We best pay our respects.”

With a deep sigh, she followed his lead and once again took the arm that was offered her. 

On the dais was the bride and her husband to be, Cersei and Loras. Next to them was Tywin Lannister, Hand to the King. And of course there was the young King himself, Tommen Baratheon.

The young King seemed to constantly glancing over at his Grandfather for guidance. It was hard to remember that he was still only a boy. Brienne notices this and muses that at least the puppet was too innocent to know any better.

The Maid from Tarth did not miss the slitted eye glare of Cersei that was aimed her way. Both she and Jaime bowed to the King and Cersei pounced, “I see you still have not learned how to curtsey, Lady Brienne.”

“Sorry my Lady.” She stared only at the King.

The young woman from Tyrell, Margaery sat next to her betrothed, Tommen. “Leave her be, Cersei.” Margery was tired of her sister in law already. She was very protective of her brother Loras and knew he was going to be in a living hell for the rest of his life with this woman.

Lord Tywin lightly dipped his head in agreement, “Yes daughter, leave Lady Brienne alone.”

“My apologies, Lady Brienne. So good to see you again.” Cersei’s smile rang as false as her respects.

Internally the twin Lannister fumed, ‘Why was her father protecting this big beast? Just what was he up to? And why did he insist that her brother tow that cow along with him back here?’ Cersei had heard that a bird that had flown to Tarth this afternoon, but the crows would not reveal the message. There were certain rumors, but she refused to acknowledge such ridiculous notions of what the message could contain.

Though Brienne still appeared weakened from her latest ordeal, Margaery smiled pleased that her friend was still alive. “Lady Brienne, it is good to see you again.” 

“Likewise your Grace.” Though she knew she could never trust anyone here, the Tyrell’s were the closest thing she had to allies, but of course within reason.

King Tommen nodded pleasantly at Brienne and she returned his greetings. She was happy that at least this ruler seemed nicer than the last one that sat there. Brienne knew that Margery would be good and attentive to the boy and thankfully he wasn’t a mean spiteful creature like his older brother had been. 

“You have done this family a favor by killing that traitor, Sandor Clangone. We are most indebted to you, Lady Brienne.” King Tommen’s adolescent voice spoke with rising confidence, “We would like to present you with the bounty for killing him.” The room was silent as she receives her gold and accolades. Behind her, she heard murmurs of approval from the audience.

Again she bowed to the King, “Thank you my liege.”

Now he became more animated and his words sounded less rehearsed. “I look forward to hearing that story, perhaps now?”   
“Of course, your Grace.” Unfortunately, storytelling was not Brienne’s strong suit. Hesitant, she began her tale.

“Um, I engaged the Hound on the Moon Mountains in Riverrun…”

Cersei smirks as Brienne began to make a fool of herself. In smaller crowds she is forthright, but around so many, and so powerful, the stuttering begins. Cersei loudly snickers, further enticing the audience to react and begin to titter. 

“Speak up!” someone yelled from the back of the room.

As the jeers started, Jaime noticed Brienne’s cadence was getting worse. Also her blush was nearly a beacon of light, which seemed to attract more unpleasantries. 

As the audience’s ridicule grew after another fumbling mumble of a sentence, Jaime realizes her plight as she continues to stammer through her story. He decided he had best take over. He certainly did not care for the bemusement his sister was receiving over all this. 

He rested his hand on Brienne’s arm, quieting her. Recalling what she told him, he would embellish it with his usual flair.   
Nodding her thanks and approval, Jaime’s strong voice then flowed out, regaling them with her exploits, “Their swords sang as they counter the others blows. Hard hit after hard hit, each sword clash rang out louder throughout the valley. It was not two knights fighting, it was a dance for survival. Then after their swords were knocked free, they began to trade blows. Punches to the face, the ribs…” someone handed him a cup filled with wine, “…thank you… other places.” He added slyly.

She blushed furiously, and the crowd roared in approval. “Suddenly, my Lady had a dagger thrust towards her face, but she blocked it just in time! Needless to say, you do not pull out a tiny blade to take on such a mighty warrior. Offended, she beat him repeatedly until he fell off the cliff and to his death.” He then finished his wine and the crowd cheered vociferously.  
Thankfully he had cut out the part of her biting off the Hounds ear.

“So you never saw a body.” A deep voice growled out behind them and it seemingly cut through the merriment. The only one who did not seem to enjoy Jaime’s rendition was the brother of Sandor Clegane.

“Hello, Ser Mountain.” Jaime mocked out a slight bow and took a deep drink from his refilled cup.

“I asked a question.” Recognizing the grumble of a threat, Brienne maneuvered herself in front of Jaime. It wasn’t often she had to tilt her head up to look someone in the eyes.

“No, I did not see his body.” She calmly replied. The audience was holding their collective breaths.

“So he could be alive.” He rumbled out.

She nodded curtly. 

“Doubtful.” Jaime chimed in from behind her. “The Mountains of the Moon are notorious for their tall cliffs and rocky bottoms. I am sure your brother is now carrion food.”

Gregor Clegane had been staring at Brienne, but now his gaze rolled onto the young Lannister and it was not a pleasant one.

Expecting a fight, Brienne settled her weight evenly. The Mountain smirked at her preparedness and instead slightly bowed, “Then I am grateful for you killing him, my Lady. He was a curse on the family name.”

She had no idea how to properly answer such a comment, “Um, you are welcome, Ser.”

Suddenly his eyes crinkled and he laughed uproariously. Then with a slight bow to her, he solemnly stated, “Until we meet again, Lady Brienne.”

And the Mountain turned and left the room.

Jaime for once was speechless as he watched him go.

At first Cersei enjoyed her brothers flummoxed reactions until she noticed that he was jealous of what had just occurred. She frowned peeved.

While Lord Tywin had enjoyed his son’s rendition of the Hounds demise, he actually found their protective dynamic towards one another much more interesting.

After his fiancé nudged him, King Tommen quickly got the situation under control. “Oh yes. Thank you again Lady Brienne.”  
“Yes, of course my liege.” She once again bowed.

Now dismissed, Jaime and Brienne made their way back to Jaime’s ‘friends’. In passing, he grabbed a nearby full cup of wine and shoved it into her hand. She frowned mutinously at the beverage.

He stared at her, then at her still full cup. She sighed loudly, “You Lannister’s drink too much.”

“We’re celebrating. Besides, there is a good reason why we do, now drink.”

Glumly she took a sip and he nudged the bottom of the cup with his stump to keep her from dropping it. As he gently tipped it upwards, she had no choice but to drink unless she wanted it to fall onto one of the few dresses that did not make her appear as if she was an overgrown child. 

After she finished it, she swayed a bit. “Still not used to the good stuff, wench?”

She frowned at him and grimaced as she stretched out her shoulder. “I am still healing, Ser.”

He nodded to placate her and both sit down among the others who waited rampantly for another story. As he pours her another cup of wine, he addresses the group, “Oh, I must tell you of the Bear and the Maiden Faire.”

Brienne groaned, if she had to hear that damn folksong one more time…

Just as he began his tale, a page raced up to Jaime, “Your father wishes to speak with you.”

Thankfully only Brienne saw him comically roll his eyes at the request.

With a slight nod and a light squeeze on her good shoulder, he stands, “I’ll be back shortly.”

She nodded and turned to see all the expectant faces focused on her.

“Well…” one demanded jovially. With a deep gulp of the increasingly delicious wine, she began to tell how Jaime saved her life in the bear pit.

*

Surprisingly he was escorted into one of the small private side chambers. Once settled, his father even poured him a cup of wine. He seldom did that, so Jaime reasoned he must want something. And true to form it came up right away.

“You know you can never marry your sister.” Jaime refused to acknowledge such a statement. That was his father, always to the point. 

Taking in his son’s continued recalcitrant attitude, “This Maid of Tarth, she would be a strong supporter of you as well as sire many healthy heirs.”

Jaime smirked at the idea of Brienne settling down, “I don’t think she’s the marrying type, father.”

“Nonsense, I see how she looks at you.”

“But I love Cersi.” He automatically stated, though honestly he wasn’t really sure if he still did anymore.

Tywin’s hand slammed down on the table, “You cannot marry your sister! Now you need to find someone to marry and I do not see what the problem is with this Maid from Tarth.”

“Yes, she is an amazing person and my friend, but…”

“People have certainly married for less!” his father rumbled out dangerously.

Jaime still stubbornly refused his ‘suggestion.’ There was no way he was going to bring her into his toxic family. They’d eat her alive. 

Exhaling loudly, Tywin sat back in his chair and studied his son’s bristling manner. He knew if he made it an order Jaime would do something drastic again. And it would be something far worse than joining the Kingsguard. If he took the vow of Black, his family would be even more spread out and he’d certainly never get any heirs then. Tywin thought a moment. Maybe his son needed to be pushed in a different way.

“Think carefully about what I said, Jaime.” Knowing it was a dismissal, the Kingslayer surged to his feet and sullenly stalked from the room.

Tywin watched him leave, already mulling over the possibilities.

*

Lord Tywin soon followed Jaime out. It did not go past him that that Cersei was following her twins every move. He saw her disdain at the Tarth woman and a plan began to form.

As he sat down, he nonchalantly indicated the couple now seated together, “Tell me, do you think those two could marry.”

Cersei nearly spat out the perfectly good wine. “What?” so the rumors of the message to Tarth were true. “Her? That cow?”

He glanced away to hide his smile. His daughter could be so predictable.

Cersei suddenly realized she had to be careful here. “At least he should be with a nobler woman.” 

“She is the heir to Tarth which is a very strategic island. And she actually comes from a rather noble line.”

The young Lannister twin studied her brother closer. Lately it seemed as if those two were joined at the hip. She knew the Tarth woman liked Jaime and it seemed as if he liked her more than just friends. Cersei knew him enough to know that stare. It was a look he would slyly give her when no one was looking at them. 

Cersei had at least hoped he’d be stuck like her, in an enforced marriage to someone he did not love. She figured that with an arranged marriage there would be nothing between the couple so it would make sleeping with Jaime easier. But if he actually loved that great beast…

Sneering Cersei thought, ‘It just wasn’t fair!’ Maybe she should talk to this Tarth woman again. Obviously her first warning was not direct enough for the cow to comprehend to stay away. Though if marriage was involved – she could not imagine that Brienne would say no – then maybe a more drastic measure was needed.

Biding her time, she waited like a spider in a dark corner, ready to pounce when least expected.

*

Upon returning to her, Brienne noticed Jaime’s change in mood and frowned at him. He indicated that he would tell her later. He had no wish to ruin the celebration.

This was good, because right now she was in heaven. During her entire life both genders had treated her as some freak and had ostracized her. She just wanted to be included and not derided by her peers and here she was now, trading stories with Knights who happily included her. Much to her pleasure, they all seemed delighted in sharing their own exploits with her. And now it appeared as if each one was trying to outdo the other and the embellishments were getting more extreme until all at the table were cheering and laughing good naturedly at all the outlandish tales. 

Soon Jaime had forgotten his father’s meddling and was laughing into another cup of wine. Brienne seemed intent on matching him drink for drink. Having never been around her when she was this drunk, he actually found her to be adorable and a little flirty.

At first she just wanted to keep her wits about her, but as time passed she was in such wonderful company she felt safe enough to get drunk. Frankly, she just wanted to unwind and not worry about things. 

Eventually Brienne is so drunk that she gives as good as she gets. Jaime’s colleagues are surprised at how well they banter and more tongues go wagging about their obvious playfully manner. Of course they soon wanted to know how they had met.

“I had him in chains, dragging him about the countryside…” she flippantly stated.

Jaime elbowed her, causing her to spill some wine, “And I still almost beat you at swords.”

“Yes, yes you did.” She admitted. Then both became a bit maudlin when they recalled what happened afterwards. 

But then they were both inebriated and Jaime refused to dwell on such horrible things, “It was quite an adventure. To the journey!” he raised his cup and Brienne sloshed hers against his. Both chuckled when most ended up landing on their sleeves and not in their mouths.

The festive party around them was beginning to quiet down and soon the two find themselves alone, still commiserating about the past.

After a few more drunken murmurs were spoken between them, eventually the conversation somehow leads to the topic of Renly and she frowned out, “He really was into swords?”

Jaime chuckled, “Yes my Lady, he certainly was. That and being the best dressed in Westeros.”

“You know I had a crush on him.” But now her drunken gaze was only focused on him and he wondered who she was really thinking about now.

“Oh?” he grinned into his cup and took a sip. Her hand suddenly found his leg and Jaime purred out, “You’re flirting with me.”

“Does your ego hold no bound?” But this time she gave his leg a little squeeze and he nearly spat out his wine.

“I think I like flirty Brienne.” He whispered into her ear as her fingers began to lightly scratch his trouser leg.

“I think I like her too.” And she laughed so hard he thought she was going to pass out from hyperventilating.

Fearing that the topic might meander back to their mawkish mulling, Jaime decides to ply her with more drink and instead proceeds to tell her funny stories from his childhood. 

*

Cersei’s ire continued to rise as she spied Jaime and Brienne sitting alone getting drunker and uproariously laughing with one another. They now seemed to be trying to outdo the other with the most outrageous stories from their childhood. Brienne’s annoying bray could be heard above the din.

She could not help but notice how comfortable they were together and how they spoke so endearing to one another. He had the gaze of a deep friendship, while the beast was obviously adroit with him. Surprisingly the huge cow could not hold her liquor very well. Now seeing her chance, Cersei made her way over to them, a knowing smirk gracing her lips.

Jaime almost seemed to flinch when she approached and he actually placed his good arm across Brienne’s shoulders as if to protect her. ‘This is getting bloody ridiculous!’ Cersei thought in irritation.

The sister then registers Brienne’s fond gaze at her brother over his chivalrous actions and knows this has to stop immediately. But how did she get rid of Jaime?

Before she can say anything, a page was once more at their side. “Lord Tywin wishes to speak with you again, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime almost erupted which had Brienne staring at him in concern. Exhaling, he motioned that it was nothing.

“Go on. Don’t worry. I will keep a watchful eye on your Maid.” Cersei’s cool voice made Jaime stare at her in quiet regard.

Brienne drunkenly tries to concentrate on Cersei’s words as the sister continues to try to mollify her brother, “Don’t worry, girl talk.” Brienne brays loudly again. Jaime frowns, but has no choice but to go to his father.

Even before he arrived at his father’s side on the dais, Jaime watches them worriedly. He hoped this would be quick and not another talk about his need for a family.

“We need to figure out when you are heading back to Casterly Rock…” his father’s dull tones barely infused in, but still Jaime internally sighed. Once more he was going to have to listen to his father nag at him.

*

Cersei was pleasantly surprised that for once her father’s meddling had worked to her advantage. 

She poured more wine for the Tarth woman, who after a few more gulps seemed hardly able to hold her head up. “My, my, I think you need some fresh air. Come along.” It amused her that she could so easily drink this overgrown beast of a woman under the table.

Brienne drunkenly nodded and allowed Cersei to help her to her feet. Without a thought, she then lets the woman lead her from the room.

*

Tywin grinned over the rim of his chalice and mentally praised Cersei’s predictable nature as she attacked the one person her twin showed any interest in that wasn’t her. It was also one of the reasons why she always went after her youngest brother, Tyrion. 

Jaime turned his attention back the benches and was horrified to realize they were gone. Quickly he stood up. “Where did they go?”

“It looked as if they were headed outside.” His father smirked at the concern that radiated from his son. ‘Just as predictable as his sister.’ Besides his family (more truthfully toward his sister and brother) this was the only other time his son has ever reacted so worried for anyone else.

The young Lannister nodded his thanks and then races off. Tywin motions his guard over. “Take three men and follow Ser Jaime.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Doing as he was ordered, the lead guard raced after the heir of Casterly Rock with three others in tow.

One could never be too cautious when it came to his conniving daughter. 

*

Brienne could not believe how free she felt. Though the world was slightly at a tilt, she had never felt such comradery and acceptance before. And surprisingly it appeared as if Cersei wanted to be friends now.

She knew she was already drunk, but the last drink Cersei had foisted on her nearly made her pass out. She really did need to get some fresh air.

After being led up numerous steps, they both stagger out on the top of the Keep. The sudden surge of the cool wind helped clear Brienne’s mind a bit. The air was so bracing and refreshing that the young Maid felt she could stay on the ramparts forever. 

Cersei then maneuvers Brienne over to an area that is still being repaired from Stannis’ attack. According to her father, this older section of the broken parapet was proving tricky for the engineers. For her it was perfect.

“It is an amazing view, don’t you think?” Cersei stands close to the low edge and as careful as a tall drunk woman could be, Brienne stumbled closer, but was still nowhere near where the sister wanted her to be.

The young Lannister practically growled out her frustrations, “You certainly are as stubborn as you are homely.”

“What?” the drink blurred her senses, but it was the fear of betrayal that made Brienne begin to sober up.

“You heard me, I said you are stubborn and ugly.”

Brienne took a step back from her so Cersei changed her tactics. Before the beast of a woman could flee, Cersei was blocking her retreat. “Oh no. You and I have much to discuss.”

“I-I don’t…” 

As the toxic words begin to spill from her lips, Cersei continues to corral the taller woman towards the low edge. “Do you even hear yourself? How could he love someone like you? Anyone ever tell you, you look like a cow. Just as stupid, slow, and ugly. A pitiful creature that always stares at him with love sick eyes.” 

Brienne was confused, he loved her? Who was this he? It could not be Jaime. But in her drunken addled mind, there was no one else his jealous sister could be referring to.

She began to protest, “No, you have it all wrong.” Instinctively she continued to try to back away from the awful words that Cersei was hurling at her.

Thoroughly enjoying herself, Cersei spat out more venomous words, “I do? He does not seem at all upset that father wants you two to marry.” 

“Marriage?”

Cersei was pleased that it almost sounded like a curse from the Tarth woman’s lips.

To punctuate her words, Cersei spitefully looked her up and down, “Yes, could you see you two? The Kingslayer and the ugliest woman in Westeros, together forever. Makes me sick.”

Brienne chastises herself for thinking all was well between them. She knew not to let her guard down fully, had learned this the hard way over the years, but then all that wine and easy camaraderie…

Pleased that her words were having the desired effect she wanted, Cersei then went after the one person Brienne loved unequivocally, “And then there is your precious noble Jaime. Some knight he is.”

She began to automatically defend him, which enraged Cersei further, “Did he tell you he raped me at my own son’s funeral?”

Brienne shook her head empathically ‘no’, that could not be true. She took another step backwards in denial.

“Yes, right there with my son’s dead body above us. I told him to stop.” She added flatly, as if distantly recalling a horrible memory.

‘But he prevented my own rape, Jaime couldn’t…’ the accusation had to be false. Her Jaime would never do such a thing. But then Joffrey had been killed after they had gotten back which would mean he hadn’t changed after all...

Unknowingly she had retreated further and was so close to the edge her back heels had nothing to rest on.

“And now I am with his child.” Glee showed in Cersei’s eyes when she recognized the hurt in Brienne’s far off gaze. “Did he tell you all my children are his? We were a family well before you came around. He has no use for you.” She continued now sneering out, “You’re just some naïve child that he feels pity for. He will always love me, never you, you pathetic cow.”

Brienne who had always been used to defending herself against swords, now sagged as those horrible words thrusted into her were drawing out metaphorical blood.

Cersei smirks at her crestfallen companion. Her hand then came up and without difficulty, shoved Brienne off the parapet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Cersei’s pregnancy:
> 
> I fudged with the time frame so there would be a chance it could be Jaime’s kid. Now if it is his or not, or even exists, that is for another time ;-)
> 
> Thanks again for reading this!


	6. Chapter 6

A rather undainty scream warbled from her lips as Brienne suddenly felt nothing under her feet and she began to fall. Instinctively her large hands reached out and she somehow managed to grab onto the side of the parapet’s walls narrow support beams that the workers had used to shore up repairs. Her sore shoulder was so roughly jarred that a quick numbing sensation overran it and Brienne suddenly found herself hanging on one handed. Frantically she tried to find purchase with her feet, but a castle was not designed to allow invaders any footholds. 

Dazedly Brienne stared below and realized that it was a very long drop. The irony of dying like the Hound made her grimace and stubbornly she gripped the beam harder. 

Now more sober than she wished to be, she glanced up and noticed the smirking Cersei above her. “You can’t even die right!” The beautiful golden Lannister twin groused out as she began to lower her leg down to stomp on Brienne’s fingers. 

Brienne decided she wasn’t going to go without a fight. It would be nearly impossible, but if she could somehow take this horrible woman with her then maybe Jaime would finally be free of these awful people. But then after hearing what the spiteful Cersei had said, maybe he wasn’t worth the effort after all. Her fingers began to tingle and she felt her grasp on the beam further slipping.

Before the gleeful Cersei could ram her heel down on Brienne’s fingers, Jaime sprinted over to them. “Cersei, no!”

Cersei stopped and stared as her frantic brother rushed to the edge to pull up Brienne, “Leave her, brother. I know our father wants you to marry her. Let her fall and we can be together always. We’ll just tell them she was drunk and fell off.”

“Are you insane, Cersei?” He shoved his sister back with his stump and then reached down just as Brienne lost her grip. He was barely fast enough to grab onto her with his hand and her sudden weight nearly dragged him over the edge. 

His right arm flailed about, but his stump was worthless without something for it to wrap around. More and more he wished he insisted on a hook. Jaime knew that there was no way he could pull her up one handed, especially with her obvious inability to use her left shoulder. He slid further forward and Cersei screamed at him to “Let the cow go”, but he ignored her, only concentrating on holding Brienne’s hand. He gazed into the Maid’s shiny blue eyes.

She glared up at him with such a look contempt and betrayal. “Go ahead, let me fall!” Tears are now streaming down her face.

“What the hell has gotten into you, wench?” He slipped further along the stone floor and now his body was bent over at the waist. Jaime splayed out his strong legs, trying to distribute his weight but he knew he wouldn’t last for long, “I am not letting you go.” It was evident that they are going to fall.

Brienne bit her lip. No matter what, she still cared enough for him that she would not allow him to die for her. He realized what she was thinking when she glanced down at the ground below. “Don’t you dare, Brienne!” Just as she began to struggle free, Lord Tywin’s personal guards jogged over. “Help me, damn-it!”

After the guards help pull them both up, a relieved Jaime went to hug her, but Brienne shoved him roughly back.

Crying, she then struggled to her feet and hissed out to Cersei, “You can have him! You two deserve each other!” 

Still drunk and now sobbing, Brienne staggered away and headed back to her chambers. Once there, she shoved a chair under the door handle and threw herself onto her bed. 

Thoughts of Jaime’s duplicity flittered about her stricken mind. She had to get away, but could she do so now? Was it true she was being forced to marry Jaime? If so, there was really nowhere safe she could go. Her muddled thinking then realized, ‘No that couldn’t be right. Cersei was just trying to keep her off balance. Tomorrow,’ she vowed to herself, ‘she was going to head up North and kill Stannis, the Lannister’s be damned!’ 

Desolate, she cried herself to sleep. 

*

There was a pounding at her door that echoed the same sensation that was going on in her head. Now she remembered why she did not drink. She loudly groaned.

“Lady Brienne!” some page yelled. “Lady Brienne, get up! The Lord Hand wishes to speak with you right away!” 

“Fine!” she shouted out, “I’ll be ready in a moment!” Ugh, and she carefully rolled out of bed. The hangover that floated behind her eyes made her feel very tired and irritable. With care for her still throbbing shoulder, she slowly shrugged out of her ruined dress and into her usual fare of breeches and a tunic. She sadly gazed at her ripped and dirty green dress, then balled it up and threw it into the corner. It would only be a reminder of what she can never have. Besides, she would not be wearing a dress when she killed Stannis.

Brienne decided that it was the stupid Lannister family’s fault that her mouth was putrid and that her head ached so horribly. She figured that the Lord Hand would just have to accept her current state. Maybe he would be so offended he would toss her out of King’s Landing. Then she froze. Didn’t Cersei mention something about the father wanting her to marry Jaime? No, she argued with herself. Cersei was just a conniving bitch and said those words to hurt her. With a grimace she rolled her bad shoulder just as the page banged on her door once again.

With a loud growl, she yanked open the door and exited. The page jumped up alarmed and began to protest her attire. Her glare made him shut off any further noise about her appearance. ‘Good’, she thought grimly, ‘I am ready.’ Quickly the page rushed off and Brienne stormed after him.

*

Arriving, she was quickly ushered in and the Hand indicated for her to sit. If he disapproved of her sullen demeanor or disheveled appearance, he had the good grace not to say anything. 

Lord Tywin then stood up from the head of the table and walked over with a full goblet of wine for her. She blurry eyed it and then him. She had no choice but to grab the cup when it was offered and winced when she moved her arm, “How is your shoulder?” He asked in slight concern.

Glumly she stated, “Sore, Lord Hand.”

He nodded in understanding, “Yes, I should have warned you how… unstable some areas of the castle are.”

“And I should have recognized the danger myself, my Lord.” She stared at him squarely in the eye almost challengingly and he wondered if she figured out his earlier manipulation. He nodded thoughtfully to himself. “But then I was also a tad drunk.” She added. 

Tywin approved, ‘She might not be as slow she appeared.’ 

Brienne was never much of a drinker, especially with this headache, but Tywin insisted, “It is considered rude not to accept a host’s drink.”

She took a tiny sip to placate him. Her slight shudder made him smile.

Briefly studying her, Tywin decided it was time for honesty and he sat on the edge of the table facing her. “I have always been hard on my children. I wanted what was best for them and often they would band together against me. And with their mother gone, they had no one else to really confide in. Unfortunately Cersei and Jaime took it one step further. Now drink.” 

Brienne reluctantly took in a mouthful and grimaced. He gave her a look and she took an even deeper gulp of wine. Tywin had a feeling she was not used to having to look up at people. He then motioned for her to finish it. 

Once done, he continued, “There is an innocence about you that loosens many of tongues. I can see why my son likes you. Do you care for him?” He refilled her goblet to the brim.

Already feeling the last drink, she eyed it wearily, “I-I don’t know anymore.”

“Is this before or after you found out that they had been sleeping together?” Tywin made it sound so innocent, but he was anything but.

Tiredly she sighed. If anyone had said she would ever be having this conversation with the Hand of the King she would have scoffed. Brienne took another deep gulp of wine. Since he was being so honest with her… “She says she carries his child.” This was dangerous ground, but she did not care anymore. If both Cersei and Jaime got into trouble for this, then so be it. Maybe if Tywin was so upset with them, she could escape from this mad place. Besides the wine was having the desired affect that he wanted and he did want candor. Her head started pounding again.

Tywin exhaled loudly. “Thank you for telling me that. I had a feeling that was the case.” He then nodded pleased and actually winked at her, “I knew you’d fit in with this family...” She internally cursed and had a sense she had passed some sort of test of his. She worried about just what sort of viper’s nest she was now privy to. “That does confirm my daughter’s recent behavior and that possibility was why I bumped up their wedding. Well no matter, she will be marrying the Prince of Flowers in two days so it will be his problem. I trust you will not mention this to the Tyrell’s.”

Brienne blurrily gazed up at him, “What? And risk an all-out war. I just fight the battles, not cause them.”

He carefully studied her, “So tell me, why do you care about their past?”

Was he serious? “It is wrong.”

Tywin nodded in agreement. “I have troubled children. They have always insisted on stubbornly fighting me the whole way. Cersei has been the toughest of them, but then she had more forced upon her. Made to marry men she did not love to form alliances. She would have preferred to make her own on a more personal level.” She raised an eyebrow, surprised that he continued to be so open with her about his family, and also concerned that he was willingly doing so. “You were smart to choose to be a warrior. I bet your father tried to get you married though.” 

He saw her smirk, “Yes, he tried.”

Nodding and then in a formal voice Tywin stated, “Brienne of Tarth, I ask you to marry my son Jaime and make him a better man. He can be just and fair, and I’ve seen how he respects you. You seem to bring out the best in him.”

Her worst fear was coming true and before she could stop herself she grumbled out, “Why do you want me to marry him so badly?”

The Lord Hand stood and began to move some papers about on his desk, “Ever since he lost his hand, he is no longer the man he once was and he needs a strong family to support him. Most women out there would not challenge him to be a better person. Or protect him. You do and will.” He now stared at her, appraising her, “I want more than just the family legacy of children to carry on the Lannister name. I want Jaime to be the best ruler possible, but he needs an equal, someone he would listen to and trust. Who would have his back. And I want his children not to resent him as mine do. The pattern must be broken and I think that could be you.”

Despondent, she sat back and took a deep gulp of wine. “And if I refuse?”

“An order from the King?” she blanched at that, and he chuckled at her bleak expression. “I might not be your father Brienne of Tarth, but I am the voice for the King. You cannot go against a direct command.” He recognized the stubborn glare. His daughter often had that same look. “It would not be very… noble of you.”

She fumbled with the only thought she could sputter out, “And your son? What does he think?”

“My dear, he just chose you over his sister. Wasn’t that proof enough for his feelings for you?”

Brienne distantly nodded, thinking it over.

Though it had already been decided, there was still a formality that needed to be adhered to, “Good, then you will be married here in two weeks.”

She nearly lurched to her feet, “Two-two weeks? But my father…”

“I have already informed him of your pending nuptials and he will arrive here next week. Any other questions?” Already she had been dismissed as his manner toward her indicated.

“No, no my Lord.” A dejected Brienne stared anywhere but at him.

He smirked at her behavior. “Good, then I think you should go fetch your husband to be and give him the good news. Last I heard he was at the Trickster Tavern.”

She swallowed the last of her wine. Even though she was a big woman, she still could not hold her liquor and she swayed a bit as she stood. “I will take my leave then my Lord.”

Jovially pleased at how it was all working out for him, he pleasantly stated, “Please, we will soon be related. When out of court, call me Tywin.”

She curtly bowed and fled from the room.

*

It did not take Brienne long to find the Trickster Tavern. Inside, Jaime sat in the darkened corner with many bottles of empty wine strewn around him.

She stood over him and growled out, “You Lannister’s drink too much.”

“Wench, it takes more with this swill to get me drunk. Here, here, have some.” He swung drunkenly around, spilling some on her shoes. “Be flirty Brienne again.”

With a sigh, she sat next to him. “We need to talk.” 

Jaime blurrily glared at her. “You’re not real.”

“I am real.”

“The real Brienne wants nothing to do with me.” Jaime tried to take another sip, but he was now out of booze.

He clumsily reached across toward her to grab a nearby bottle with his stump, but instead knocked over the half full bottle onto the table. Ignoring how dejected he appeared, Brienne quickly set the bottle up right. “Since we are to marry, you cannot keep running away to your cups.”

“Since… ah, my father has been talking to you again.” He smacked his dry lips and when he yet again tried for the wine bottle, she angrily yanked it further away from him.

Hissing out, she leaned closer to him, “Why didn’t you warn me that he wanted us to marry?” 

“Maybe I was afraid of your answer. I don’t deserve you, Brienne.” He continued to sadly slur his words, “Everything this family does is poison!”

Brienne recalled how he saved her virtue and then her life. She had the scars from the bear claws on her sore shoulder as proof.  
Softly she reasoned out to the melancholic drunk. “You still have your vows of Knighthood. And I will never forget that you have helped me as well.” 

“I’ve killed, maimed and not just against people who deserved it.” Jaime remembered Bran Stark's wide eyed stare of absolute horror as he was pushed from the window.

“And raped.” Brienne added for him.

He suddenly lurched to his feet and was about to yell at her that he would never do such a thing, but then sat down heavily and bleakly muttered, “Cersei.”

Now she was mad, “I thought you said you had changed? Is this why you sent me away the last time? So I wouldn’t find out that you raped your own sister?”

He sighed. “Partially. Also, my sister can be a viper and I was worried she would hurt you. And I see she has succeeded.” 

“And the rape?” She had to know. This was not something she was sure she could ever forgive him for. 

Crestfallen, he gazed into his empty cup, “I have no excuse. She aggravated me and had been pushing me away since I got back. My failure…” He sadly held up his stump, “and my failure at protecting the King… my son, I – I took it out on her.” Whenever he reflected back on that day he cursed himself and his actions. Maybe the old Jaime wasn’t too far from the surface as he would have liked after all.

Brienne challenged out as she stuck her chin up, “She says she carries your child now.”

“She might be.” He ran his lone hand over his tired features. “But then my sister is not necessarily known for her honesty.”  
“Do you still love her?” Jaime had never heard her voice sound so meek and unsure.

“Our relationship is… peculiar. This is my family Brienne. We are all toxic. Maybe you should run away while you can.” He attempted to stand intent on making a grand exit, but was too drunk to succeed. Jaime instead crumpled and collapsed hard against the table and then fell half-conscious to the floor.

“Problem is we’ve been ordered to marry by the voice for the King.” She grumbled out as he groaned up at her blurry eyed.  
With a tired sigh, she hoisted him over her good shoulder. Plaintively he weakly asked, “Would it be so horrible to marry me, wench?” 

With a grunt as her answer, she headed for the exit. Drunkenly he crooned out to her, “You really do have a nice ass.” But then he is further silenced when she ‘accidently’ rapped his head lightly into the doorways support beam.

Then in determined steps, she trudged them back to the Keep. Though it hurt to carry him on her sore shoulders, he was her betrothed now. Besides, regardless of all this current madness, they have always looked after one another.

*

It took longer than she was pleased to admit, but she got him back to his chambers. 

As he grumbled between drunken snores, she used water to clean his face. The frigid liquid woke him up enough that she could get him to drink some water.

He stared in her eyes, his gaze an obvious blurry haze, “Come to bed, my beloved.” His one hand reached out and lightly brushed her cheek. 

Earlier after his father had told Jaime he was going to order Brienne to marry him, the young Lord of Casterly Rock had tried to argue against it. Alas as it was pointed out to him, because of the Maid’s insistence on honor, she would never go against the ruling of the Lord Hand. At least for now, Jaime hoped that by marrying her, he could protect her from his horrible family.

Still infuriated with him as well as the situation she is now trapped in, Brienne yanked her face away and stormed from the room leaving a sadden Jaime behind. He is too inebriated to follow and collapsed back onto his bed, now face first.

There was only one place she felt like she belonged to, so she trudged her way back to the practice field.

*

“Is this a joke?” Cersei sputtered to her father. She had hoped that with that Tarth woman screaming at him to leave her alone forever, Jaime would have taken the hint and stayed clear.

Lord Tywin contemplated how honest he should be with her, so instead he easily stated, “Your brother is dead serious about this. They are to wed in two weeks.” As his daughter petulantly brooded, “Dispel your fantasies of having a life with him.”  
Contrary to her belief, he did know what was going on between them. 

“This is not what he wants.” Cersei insisted quietly.

“Oh? You know your brother came back a changed man. And it was more than just having lost his hand. Since he could no longer be the Commander of the Kingsguard, he will be the Lord of Casterly Rock. I knew he was always intelligent and quick with his words and now that will come into play.” He was surprised he was having this conversation with Cersei again. She had already griped about Jaime being given their ancestral castle weeks ago.

Now though it seemed as if she realized what she was truly loosing. “You almost sound pleased that your son is disfigured!” 

He shrugged. Honestly, it did have its benefits. “He is settling down and promises they will produce many heirs.”

And that was the crux of why she was so upset. Jaime was going to get his happily ever after. “But he’s marrying a cow!” Cersei choked out. 

Scoffing, Tywin evenly said, “She killed the Hound.”

Cersei’s voice continued to raise, “So?”

“That makes me believe that it would be an asset to have her tied to us in blood.” Unspoken were the thoughts of ‘Where she can be better controlled.’ Instead he smirked out loud, “Besides, I see her more as a broodmare than as a cow.”

She nearly screamed out loud at the unfairness of it all. Then realizing she was not going to be able to get through to her father, she stood up and began to stomp away.

Her father stared coolly at her retreating figure and called out which forced her to stop, “Now, you have your own wedding to plan. The Tyrell’s have kindly offered to help you with this. Lady Olenna would like to see you later this afternoon. She will send for you when she is ready.”

Now she was dismissed on his terms. Seething, Cersei knew exactly what he was up to. Fine, there was other ways to stop Jaime’s ridiculous marriage.

“Father.” She sneered out and stormed from the room.

Tywin slyly smiled to himself. That should keep his daughter too occupied to try to kill the Lady Brienne again.

*

Would it be so horrible to marry me? Jaime’s voice filtered through Brienne’s mind as she hacked and thrusted at her stagnant straw target. 

In the next stall over the Mountain continued to surreptitiously spy on her as she persisted in beating dramatically at the straw stuffed dummy. Studying her, he accepted that she was no beauty. But her size and bearing made her interesting. He could also tell she was favoring her left shoulder as she cleaved away at the practice dummy. There was no grace in her movements, only anger. 

Exhausted, she was finally forced to stop and she hung onto the cross beams for support. Whatever had made her so upset seemed to have pushed her past her breaking point. As she began to tiredly stagger to the nearest bench, Gregor quickly strode up to her and helped her over to sit.

Brienne awkwardly nodded her thanks and accepted the dry towel he offered her. He then motioned over his squire who held cups of water and a plate of food.

She queasily ignored the food but gladly took the cool water, drinking most of it. “Thank you.” She gasped out after finishing it and then she painfully stretched out her bad shoulder. Though it felt wonderful to once again hold a sword, she begrudgingly realized that it had been too long and she was nowhere near her full strength yet.

Gregor indicated her stiffening shoulder. “Something my brother did to you?” 

She weakly smiled, killing the Hound seemed ages ago. “No, a new injury.” 

“You should see my squire, ugly as sin but he has the best hands. He can fix your shoulder up fine.”

The Maid nodded her thanks, “Maybe I will take him up on it another time.”

He inclined the dip of his head in understanding. “You must have to prove yourself more than most.”

Brienne frowned in surprise at this giant of a man. Were all the rumors she heard about him not true? It reminded her of Jaime and the reputation he had. “I am sure that never happened to you.”

The Mountain laughed lightly at her comment. “Tell me my Lady, has no one ever championed for you?” 

She thought of Jaime leaping into the bear pit to save her life and sighed tiredly. “One has.”

Ignoring her far off introspection, he growled out loud enough for her to hear, “Rumor has it you will only marry the man who can best you in a fight.”

Brienne smirked at that. When she squinted up at him, she saw his brother’s resemblance.

“Come spar with me when you are feeling better.” He eyed her appraisingly. No man, not even Jaime had ever looked at her like that. It was one thing to be studied at in the arena, it was another to have it done so lasciviously.

She blushed rather loudly and he chuckled out a pleased sound. Yes, she wasn’t much to look at but then he reasoned he wasn’t some handsome prince either. She appeared solid and could fight. And he did like her eyes. He decided they would make great children. Also it would be nice to have someone that could accommodate him without screaming. But he could tell that with her pride, he would still have to break her somewhat.

Partially misreading his thoughts she stated, “I am betrothed to another.”

“I heard of no such thing.” He was insulted that she would use such a ruse on him.

‘Of course not,’ she groused to herself, ‘it wouldn’t be announced until it was more advantageous.’

He saw her stiffen and realized that maybe she wasn’t lying. Cersei did mention that she was honorable, “Has he bested you?”  
She blushed again and this time he did not laugh. He nodded knowingly. 

Just then, one of the Tyrell’s pages wearily approached. The young man stammered out to Brienne, “The Lady Olenna would like a word with you.” The Mountain nearly scared him off, but Clegane knew better than to interfere in House politics. 

“Enjoy your court intrigue, my Lady.” The Mountain bowed and went to spar. It was new to her, but she believed he had an actual interest in her. She sighed as she stood up and begrudgingly lamented, ‘At least with him there would not be any politics to worry about.’ 

As she slowly followed the page, she glanced over her shoulder at the Mountain who had begun his daily fierce sparing. She was both impressed and horrified at his abilities as he took on two opponents at once. He seemed even more formidable than the last time and she wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or not. 

*

Lady Olenna and Margaery sat in their usual spot among the pretty flowers of the garden. Food was out and waiting for Brienne as she joined them. Surprisingly the large woman’s stomach grumbled at the delicate comfort food before her. After Brienne did a formal bow at the two of them, the older impatient woman gestured her over. “Sit, sit, you are making my neck ache.”

Brienne hid her smile and did as she was instructed.

“Tell me child, are you well?” The Thorn for some reason seemed to have taken an interest in this giant of a woman. 

The Maid recalled that she was sweaty and was much disheveled in appearance. “Sorry, I did not have time to refresh. I was in the practice field…”

Again she was waved off. “No, no. From what happened last night. We heard the most dreadful rumors that you had nearly fallen to your death off of the parapet!”

“I am well.” But Lady Olenna saw the strain around the young woman’s eyes.

“Rumor has it that Cersei was there with you.” Margaery quietly stated.

Brienne glanced away. “I was not at my finest.”

“Sometimes it is the company we choose to be with…” They knew that Cersei is trouble. But Brienne was too noble to further the gossip, but then her silence spoke volumes.

Lady Olenna innocently inquired, “There are also the murmurs of your pending nuptials.”

Brienne was honestly not surprised that it was already known by the Lady Thorn, she had more spies than Varys. She tiredly nodded.

“Are you not pleased with your upcoming marriage?” Margaery asked the tall woman. She typically would let grandmother dictate the conversation in hopes of gleaming some of the matriarch’s vast knowledge on court intrigue, but Brienne was one of the few around here she could call a friend.

In concern Lady Olenna grabbed the Maid’s large calloused hand with her own smaller wrinkled one, “Please my dear, tell us what bothers you?”

Dare she tell them that Cersei was possibly pregnant with her fiancés child? If she did they would refuse to allow Loras to marry Cersei and she would continue to be a dagger in Jaime’s side. These were good people and they deserved the truth. She almost wondered if Cersei had told her in the hope that she would reveal this to them out of her sense of nobility.

That would certainly solve this problem for that rancid woman. Brienne would probably be hung as a traitor for basically causing a war. And Cersei could keep her claws in Jaime. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to get him away from his horrible family. Regardless of the truth on his relationship with his sister, she still felt very protective of him.

Reluctantly she declined and instead said, “He is troubled.”

The Thorn scoffed, “Aren’t we all. Everyone knows about him and his sister.”

Nearly stuttering out, “They do?” Just how much did they know though?

“But he has changed since…” The older woman raised her right hand and lightly shook it, “…and I do believe he cares for you very much.”

Shyly Brienne glanced downwards and in a low tone said, “I want…”

Lady Olenna waved her off, “You want romance and love. That comes later.”

“Really?” The young Maid asked hopeful. Margaery seemed to perk up at her grandmother’s words as well. 

The older woman sadly sighed as she noticed her granddaughter’s reaction, “Not for all of us. But you two are different. He is no longer the brash swordsman, the Kingslayer. And I think you might have had something to do with that. Marry him, and you will have your happy ending.”

Brienne felt foolish for wanting such things, but then she had always wanted to be swept off her feet. Ruefully she just figured because of her size…

“And if not, clock him on the head a few times until he figured it out.” The Thorn chuckled at her own comment. The older woman then studied the large woman who was now timidly fiddling with her napkin. She was one of the few people outside of her family that Olenna felt legitimate affection for. Such a noble warrior woman was a rare find in itself and she really wanted her to be happy. Besides, if she was content, than Jaime would be as well. And to keep her that way, he would quickly take her away from the machinations of King’s Landing to the less intrigue at Casterly Rock. And that would mean one less Lannister near their father’s influence.

Without preamble, the Thorn began to eat and soon the others joined her in the repast. Then the three of them talked for another hour until Brienne’s eyes could hardly stay open.

The shrewd gaze of the Lady Olenna easily took in her current state, “Oh my dear, I am afraid we have squandered enough of your time. You should go back to your chambers and get some rest.” 

Brienne nodded and lurched to her feet. “Thank you, my Lady’s. It has been a pleasure.” After a mild bow and a smile to them both, she left.

Behind her she heard the Lady Olenna tell her page to go seek out Cersei. The loathing Brienne felt for that woman gave her the energy to make it back to her chambers. She planned to collapse and sleep through the rest of the day.

Just as she was getting ready for bed, there was a timid knock at her door. Frowning she opened it and was surprised to see that the Mountain’s squire was there.

“Um begging your pardon m’Lady, but Ser Clegane sent me.” She shook her head and began to shut the door on him. He quickly added, “About your shoulder?” 

Not really wanting to deal with this, she forced herself to pleasantly state, “Oh, there’s no need.”

The old man screwed his lined face up all offended and not wanting that to be the last image she saw before she went to bed, she acquiescence. Besides, her shoulder really was killing her. With a tired sigh, she opened her door all the way, “Fine.” 

Pleased he entered and told her remove her tunic and lay face down on the bed. She was hesitant until he promised he would avert his eyes until she was ready for him. 

Now laid bare from the waist up, she tensely stiffened when he began to apply gentle pressure to her upper back. Soon she loosened up as the warm fragrant oil was massaged into her shoulder. She had to admit, the man knew his muscles. In a while, Brienne began to get drowsy. As he finished up, she realized her shoulders hadn’t felt this good in ages.

Before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

When Brienne awakened, it was dark outside. A lit candle illuminated the note next to the plate of food. It had Jaime’s poor scrawl on it. It might have read, “Eat” but she wasn’t sure.

It was too late to go out anyway so instead she ate and then went back to bed.

*

Cersei had just come from a very taxing meeting with Lady Olenna. The old battleaxe was insistent that the young Lannister now focus on her own wedding plans. The snide tone used reminded Cersei of what this was really about. It didn’t take much deduction to know the truth. There never was any need for the royal wedding party to be actively involved unless they wanted to be. And Gods forbid she wanted nothing to do with this one! 

That meant it was to keep her too busy to be plotting, most likely against that cow of a woman. She could not believe the amount of people that seemed to care more about that minor house woman. What about her needs and wants. She was what should matter, not some love sick beast. She sneered into her cup of wine and drank deeply.

Cersei had just finished her wine and was about to pour another when a sober Jaime barged into her room. She knew that look of righteous anger anywhere. It was the same one that was plastered on hers right now.

“Great, another supporter for the Maid of Tarth.” She mockingly saluted him with her cup. “Out of everyone, I would think you the least likely to betray me.”

Jaime took in her drunken gaze and stated, “You are the one who started this, Cersei.”

His sister growled out, “You think she is innocent?”

Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned back against the wall and smirked, “I know between the two of you she always will be.”

Choosing to ignore his outrage, Cersei poured herself another cup. “Come brother, join me.” She nudged the near empty carafe toward him but he ignored it.

“I came by to tell you if you ever try to hurt her again, I will destroy you.” He grounded out, arms now stuck to his side in fear of lashing out.

“Oh?” she weakly smiled into her cups.

“She is my friend. More than you have ever been my entire life!” He said it with such pride. 

‘His honor be damned!’ She shot to her feet, “We are blood Jaime. Not her. We are what matters to the Lannister line.” She stalked over to him and took in his defiant glare and proud shoulders. He no longer wore the cloak of White and she felt its absence almost as much as he did. It was a way to keep him close to her and their children. She made as if to brush lint off this imagined cloak. “We have been through so much together, Jaime. Why are you throwing it away on this lack wit?”

His far away half smile was one she had only seen him ever give her. This infiltrated her even more. He then shrugged, “She is the honor I will never have, the soul I will never deserve. I owe her more than you can ever know.”

Ever since he lost his hand, Jaime knew he repulsed his sister. It almost seemed as if that appendage had represented who he had been. And in a way it was true.

Prior to it being cut off, he had excelled at sword fighting. His skill had become so good that it had almost made the rest of his life a crutch. There was no need to push himself, he would always be better than others when it came to fighting. And that was all he cared about. Then he would scoff when he glanced at the White Book, with barely anything of worth under his name, but he would not worry. He would someday fill it in. Complacency abounds and now it was near 20 years later and he still had done nothing. He had ridden on his own coat tails for so long that the prime of his life was gone.

Then when the only great achievement in his life had been removed, he had to reinvent himself. And it made him reevaluate his future all the more.

He had originally stayed in the Kingsguard to be close to his sister and his unclaimed children. Now only Tommen was here and Jaime was finally honest with himself. Here he would never be more than the Kingslayer, but in Casterly Rock, he could start anew.

For once Jaime was happy to be back here among his family. It made him appreciate all he now had. A new chance with a woman who loved him for who he was, not what he had been.

He sighed pleased at Cersei, suddenly feeling freer than he ever had before. Quickly he kissed her on the forehead and then bowed formally.

Recognizing the look in his eye, Cersei panicked. “Don’t you dare leave me, Jaime.”

His smile grew larger, “We are done, my sister. After I am married, I will go on my way to a new happier life.”

A jealous Cersei spat. “Yes, enjoy your love for that cow.”

Jaime seethed and took a threatening step forward, “You will never call her those names again. She is the woman I respect and you will be advised to do the same and address her by her rightful title. She is a Lady. My Lady of Casterly Rock.”

His sister took a step back as his warning seemed to physically push her, but then she held her ground.

Her contrite smile was venomous, “You’ll never be satisfied with her. When you are with her, all you will think about is me and what you can no longer have.”

Smirking, Jaime stared into her matching green eyes, “Enjoy married life, I know I will.”

And with that, he sauntered from the room, feeling lighter than he ever had in his life. He was pleased he could finally say goodbye to her, and mean it. She was one addiction he was finally grateful to be rid of.

His flippancy at first had hid his sadness at what he had lost. But then he realized how can you lose something you never truly had? His sister only selfishly gave for what she wanted. It was never for his benefit, only always for the betterment of Cersei. True, he certainly had some great sex with her, but now he wanted something more meaningful for himself. Grinning, the young Lord of Casterly Rock strode away from her room. He ignored his sister’s jealous howl of rage that seemed to echo down the hallway after him.

*

The only person Jaime wanted to share this new freedom with was sound asleep in her chambers. He wasn’t really surprised. He was sure Brienne would be exhausted after all that had happened to her in the last 24 hours. He studied her peaceful visage a moment, further tucking the blanket over her bare shoulders. He thought he smelled the light fragrance of peppermint, but wasn’t sure. Then with a smile, Jaime left a brief note by the tray of food that he had one of the serving girls deliver earlier.

Noticing her once beautiful green dress discarded in the corner, he carefully picked up the ruined garment and took it with him from the room. He knew it would take some doing but he vowed he would win Brienne over once again. Hopefully she would not be so stubborn this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support. You all have been so wonderful!
> 
> And I cannot wait for this Sunday (got my dates mixed up - d'oh!). Yeah, it finally starts!


	7. Chapter 7

Having spent most of the next morning and afternoon in the armory, Jaime wanted to find his friend and show her his new weapon. He didn’t even bother going to her room. He knew the only place she felt safe was on the practice field.

Sure enough, he spotted her by one of the training dummies slowly advancing and retreating. He could tell how bored she was by her sluggish movements.

After making sure his new modified cuff was correctly locked over his stump he strode up to her. 

Booming out jovially, “I knew I’d find you here, wench,” caused her to slightly start which then became a stubborn set of her shoulders. She still ignored him, but now viciously attacked the dummy. She continued to bludgeon it until the last hard hit collapsed it over.

“Ouch. That left a mark.” He got closer to her as she continued to beat on the fallen figure. Speaking low, “Come now, my Lady. Leave that poor defenseless dummy alone. Besides, you promised you’d help me practice.” He showed off his new wrist attachment to her. A common sword blade is locked into a new metal stump guard. That in itself is secured by an elbow and shoulder brace. It was designed so to prevent the cuff from being easily dislodged from any hard hits.

The sight of it made her slightly grin with pride. Reluctantly she nodded agreeing to help. “Fine, Ser Jaime.”

Grabbing a smaller dulled blade from a nearby weapons cache, he tossed the tourney sword to her and then he yanked one free for himself, which he then gripped tightly in his left hand. Once they were both properly loosened up, they then silently circle one another. Suddenly, he lunged at her. She easily blocked his wrist sword and then side stepped as he followed through with his other weapon.

Though Brienne was furious with him, she would not unload on him. He grew frustrated with her chaste fighting style as she dodged another swing. “Where is that wench I know so well? She’s a warrior, not some weak simpering girl.”

Still she stoically would not strike back.

He comically swatted at her and she yet again blocked it. Obviously she was not amused as his fighting style became more of parody than of disciplined action. In irritation she then swung at him and he easily deflected it. There had hardly been any energy to it. Jaime felt insulted.

“My wife to be, I know you can hit harder.”

The next swing was harder, but still not at full force. “Wench, how am I to know if this blasted contraption works if you will not fight me back properly? Now I know you can hit harder than that, I have certainly felt it. Please don’t tell me that the thought of marriage has already cockled you?”

Her eyes flared in anger, “Is all this some sort of joke to you?” 

“No, but since we are to marry, you are to no longer bottle up your feelings. Keep doing that and what you did to Littlefinger’s garrison will be considered only a minor soirée. And we all know how visceral that was.” He cheerfully forced out causing her to scowl more. “And I do not wish for that to ever be aimed at me.”

He once again playfully swatted at her behind. “Besides, I find that you express yourself best when swords and violence are involved.”

“And you do so much better with your words.” She spat out. Enraged, she began to attack him in earnest.

Between his grunts of pain, he hissed out pleased, “There’s my wench.”

This made her even angrier. As each blow connected, the sound loudly rung throughout the arena. He finally side stepped another vicious hit. The power she used for the swing was not countered and her forward momentum caused her to stumble past him. Catching herself before she could face plant into the dirt, she then turned and stood taller, forcing herself to calm down.

Nodding in understanding, she now treated him as a worthy opponent and both began the dance again.

Though he found his new ‘appendage’ clumsy and off balance he was surprised that it felt more natural than his left ever did. It wasn’t due to just the hand being missing, but the natural flow of the dance that he had learned over the years. Though it certainly would need some adjustments at the smithy, already his new weapon far exceeded what he first dreamt possible.

He surprised them both with the moves that had been reawakened. Each countered hit strengthened his body’s natural instincts and once again the sword became an extension of his wrist – literally this time. Though he was still rusty, he could already tell that some of his old skill was coming back. He knew that over time eventually he would be close to what he formally once was.  
And she was correct, his left hand easily made up for the lack of finesse from his right. 

Brienne marveled at his dance. She had heard he was one of the best, and now she saw the glimpse of what could have been. Though she had easily beaten him in the past, their battle on the bridge was when he was shackled and exhausted from a year of captivity. Even back then there had been a flow and grace of his movements that now made her curse the Goat for depriving him of that forever. 

Toward the end of their skirmish, they were growing tired. Between her aching shoulder and weakening stamina and his gradual but painful elevation towards getting better, they both now sluggishly circled one another. 

She knew his tenacity, he wouldn’t cease until he bested her and at this rate neither would yield to the other.

Between pants, she grunted out, “Enough.”

“Oh, you yield wench?” He carefully wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

She stood up as straight as she could at his challenge.

“Alright my Lady, we can call it a draw.” He too was exhausted and his stump was killing him. Her blows had been hard and jarring. More padding definitely needed to be added under his metal cuff.

Brienne curtly nodded and slowly lowered her weapon, matching his same movements.

Both did their best to stay stubbornly tall, but by the time they arrived at the bench, they were hunched over, limping, and drenched in sweat. They then shared a grin. Once seated, they notice that there were more people loitering around than normal, as if a crowd had just dispersed.

An old squire rushed forward and Brienne smiled when she recognized him. He carried food and water. But there was only enough for Brienne.

“From Ser Clegane, m’Lady.” He bowed formally and quickly scurried away.

“Thank you.” She said to his fleeting figure.

They then noticed that the Mountain was standing in the adjacent yard and he did a slight bow to her.

As if thinking he was distracted, his unfortunate opponent decided to attack him. Gregor finished him brutally in two moves. He spat on the dead body, “You have no honor, Ser.” He now glared pointedly at Jaime.

The young Lannister cockily grinned at Gregor and then scooted closer to Brienne. He frowned when she went to drink the water.

Insulted he blurted out, “You’re not going to drink that, are you?”

Her innocent blue eyes blink at him and she shrugged, “Why, do you want it?”

“No!”

“Well, I’m thirsty.” And she drank the cool water.

Peeved, he stared at her angrily and then noticed the little smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. He understood instantly. This was probably the first time anyone had been a rival for her hand and he could tell that she was secretly enjoying it. 

Jaime smirked and thought ‘Good for you, Brienne.’ But that still didn’t mean he would put up with this interloper making the move on his bride to be. A Lannister did not take kindly to people pilfering from their territory. They are to be married soon for Gods sake! Didn’t she know what sort of dark proclivities the Mountain was feared for. He must remember to warn her of this later.

Well he certainly wasn’t going to challenge Gregor to a fight. Even if his right hand was still attached he wouldn’t have been that stupid. Though he amended amused, he did have an ego back then. Instead, he decided to fight for Brienne, but in a different manner. He grabbed a piece of fruit off the plate and making sure she was watching, ate it slowly. The seductive move of his mouth made her blush.

Her eyes flickered up to his simmering dark emerald ones, then back downwards to his moist sensual lips.

He took another piece, only this time he sucked it gently into his mouth. His lips were a movement of succulent beauty and she couldn’t help but automatically lick hers in response. As he reached for another piece to demonstrate his prowess with his mouth, a manly shriek of pain drew their attention back to the adjacent practice field.

The Mountain had lost his temper at Jaime’s show and had began to beat on all his opponents at once in rage. Now with no more takers, he glanced around for something else to bludgeon upon. 

“Off to find more meat to beat, Ser Gregor?” Jaime innocently asked.

The Mountain’s growl actually shook the very ground. His pounding steps weren’t any lighter as he stormed from the arena and back towards the Keep.

Jaime quirked his mouth and then turned his attention back to Brienne, “Come wench, let’s go get some real food.”

Brienne quickly nodded, and both help one another up.

Grabbing onto the small pummel of the blade in his stump, Jaime does a swift push in and then a click to the right and the weapon in his modified wrist cap popped free. Carefully he clenched the sharp blade in his left hand. Holding up his shoulder rig he asked, “Oh, I might need your help removing this brace.”

“Of course, Ser Jaime.” With her no nonsense tone, all playfulness was forgotten.

He outwardly sighed at her displeasure. They really needed to talk.

*

They silently sat alone in the great hall. Though both were very tired and she was still angry with him, the food finally seemed to energize them, so Brienne decided it was time to talk. Contrary to what he had said, beating the shit out of someone wasn’t the most fool proof way to resolve ones problems. You also needed to discuss them. Problem was Jaime was a very nuisance practitioner in the art of words. “I need to know that you are done with her.”

At first he was automatically insulted at the accusation, but then realized she had every right to demand such. With an internal sigh, Jaime had hoped she could once again forgive him. He really wanted their marriage to work. He knew she liked him a lot – or had a time ago. Maybe what they needed was some romance. He really wished his brother was here, he would know what to do.

With a determined shake of the head, Jaime stated, “Brienne, I told you our relationship was peculiar, but no, I no longer love her. Possibly not even as a sister…” he added sadly. “Too much has changed between us. And she is certainly not the woman I wish to spend the rest of my life with.” At that he made sure she caught his dedicated gaze on her.

Brienne grinned with hardly a blush and bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement of his pledge. “But know this my soon to be husband, it will be hard for me to accept what you did to her. No one deserves to be raped.” What she left unsaid was, ‘Even her.’

Introspective, he rubbed his face, then fluffed out his golden mane of hair. With a deep exhale he began, “I am truly sorry for what I did and I know that my actions can never be forgiven. My only hope is to make better judgments in the future and that begins by marrying you and making you happy.” The Lannister heir added with a sincere smile.

Again, he was very good with words. Though there was no excuse for what he had done, Brienne would not put it past Cersei to manipulate certain instances to seek out her own gain. One being of doing whatever she could to keep her brother tightly clenched in her talons. Maybe she would never know the full truth.Realizing she was fine with that, she nodded satisfied at his admittance and promises.

He grinned relieved at her acceptance.

They then shared a pleasant silence as they both chewed methodically.

Once finished eating, Jaime stretched out his aching muscles and then he grinned cockily at her, “My Lady, I wish I was not so sore, I would have loved to have taken a stroll through the gardens with you.”

She shyly grinned, “Maybe tomorrow night? After the wedding feast?”

“Ah yes, my day of celebrating being finally free from my sister.” Jaime could not hide the glee in his voice. He then noticed Brienne’s frown, “Oh? Something I said. You can’t be sympathizing with my sister in this case?”

She angrily shrugged, “No, I just feel bad for Loras.” 

Jaime barked out a laugh. “And he gets a child!”

Brienne’s eyes flared and now the frown was aimed at him. He cursed his flippant tongue and relaxed mind.

Smartly she stated, “It has been a long day, I should retire to my chambers. Goodnight, Ser Jaime.” She quickly rose to her feet and began to stride from the room.

Sadly he called back to her retreating form, “And to you too my Lady.”

Cursing, he sprang up to his feet. Cersei would always come between them. Even though they will be separated by great distances, his sister’s child would always be a reminder of all the poor choices he had ever made. Angrily he went to drink from his wine cup, but stopped. Enraged, he threw the full cup against the wall and stalked from the room.

*

The next day Brienne awoke in a foul mood. Much to her consternation, Jaime was right, a sword in hand was the best way for her to think things through. 

Alas a light mist had begun to fall and already she could see the signs that a bigger storm was coming. How fitting that this would occur on Loras and Cersei’s wedding day, she thought with malice.

So in need of some form of activity, she prowled the hallways. Now that the wedding had to be inside, there was a giant commotion as servants busily redecorated the Great Hall for the feast and party afterwards.

She left them to their crazy ways and hoped her own wedding would not be so grand. She found all of that to be unnecessary. But knowing that it was the oldest male Lannister heir she was marrying, it would probably be more extravagant than this one.

Brienne had no worries of bumping into Jaime on her travels. The look of forlorn sadness that had overcame his features last night could be registered even in her angered state. She though refused to forgive him regarding this. It was his fault his sister was now possibly with his child. No matter what, that reminder would be from her new Jaime, not from the old one before he had lost his hand.

Sometimes it was hard for her to love him, but she realized she always would, no matter what he did. She just had no idea if she could ever fully forgive him if in fact Cersei was pregnant with his child.

Suddenly a harried page spotted her and rushed up, “Lord Tywin would like a word with you now, m’lady.”

Hiding her irritation, she nodded and followed the energetic boy toward the tower of the Hand. Once admitted she then noticed that Jaime was also there. He appeared to have not slept at all. His father seemed to ignore how gaunt and tired his son was.

Tywin glanced up from his papers and indicated for her to approach, “Ah good, please have a seat next to your betrothed.”

More delicate than she could imagine herself normally doing, she sat down next to Jaime. Tywin then studied their subdued posture and exhaustion. “I brought you both here because I wanted to inform you that your wedding will be officially announced this evening during the feast. I expect you both to be visibly excited and adoring of one another.”

She stiffened at the thought of acting, and Jaime glared at his father, “I don’t do gushing well.”

“At least don’t appear as if you two were heading to your deaths. Frankly I am surprised, I thought you two loved one another.” 

Neither of them would look at him nor each other. The Lord Hand briefly studied their hostility towards one another and frowned. Sighing at their ridiculous behavior, Tywin commanded, “No matter, just try to act joyous.”

Both sullenly nodded and stood as one. Internally Tywin smirked. Even as they fought to go against his wishes they could not stop themselves from supporting one another.

*

That night at the wedding feast, the Great Hall was alive with revelers. The earlier wedding in the Sept had gone well enough, though most noticed that both participants seemed to be swaying more than usual. Jaime wondered how much both had had to drink. Loras had already dropped his cloak once on the floor before he could successfully put it on Cersei’s shoulders. If she was even aware of the slight, she did not say anything.

Now Jaime and Brienne sat stiffly next to each other, the camaraderie of two nights prior a ghost of the past. The smiles plastered on their faces made their cheeks hurt, but at least they were playing the part. But as if others could read their cold demeanor towards one another, no one sat with them this time.

Jaime presented their wedding gift to the ‘happy couple’ and it was accepted with as much aplomb as any drunks could do so.   
Cersei though did seem to be grinning when she noticed how withdrawn Jaime and Brienne were to one another.

Then as the festivities began in earnest, they had separated. Jaime was near his father when he spied Lord Baelish hovering about in the crowd.

Instantly on guard, Jaime turned and demanded of his father, “What is he doing here?”

His father was nonplused, “He is a powerful ally who wanted to show his respects to your sister. Besides, you did warn me he was up to something and I would like to keep him close. Why are you worried? Was there something you did not mention to me?” 

“No, no of course not father.” Jaime declared absently. The young Lannister then lost Littlefinger in the crowd of revelers. 

*

Brienne had moved into a dark corner to rest her aching mouth. As she rubbed and tried to stretch it back into its normal line of stubborn determination, Lord Petyr Baelish was suddenly at her elbow. “Lady Brienne, it is so good to see you again.”

She started in surprise and then instinctively went for the nonexistent sword on her hip. “Lord Baelish.” Internally cursing, she nodded curtly and surreptitiously looked around for an exit.

Baelish studied her as she skittishly glanced about. Well at least she had been honestly portraying her poor court intrigue skills at the Eyrie, he mused. Then he hissed out low, “I was curious how you managed to stay out of the dungeons. I had heard that you are not one for intrigue, yet here you are, free as a little bird.”

“If you will…” Suddenly seeing her chance to escape, she began to move off, but he grabbed her arm, halting her. “I wanted to personally congratulate you once again on your upcoming marriage, my lady.”

“Thank you…” she began to rip her arm away, but his strength was his cold calculating words. 

“No, I am not done yet. Tell me where Sansa Stark is and I will not make your life a living hell.” His grin was one of cruelty.

Brienne almost laughed at his words and expression, “Better men have tried.” She grounded out. She had never taken threats well.

He smirked at her. “Only I can protect her. I had even an arranged marriage set up for her to keep her away from the Lannister’s.”

Lord Tywin’s voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, “Would the Lady Brienne of Tarth please come here?” Peeved, the Lord Hand had viewed their heated exchange from afar and considered it bad form to threaten family members in his presence. He’d have to talk to Baelish about manners later.

Thankful for the interruption, Brienne began to pull away but Baelish had more to say, “You are not safe, my Lady. Just a few words to Lord Tywin and you will be treated as a traitor that you are. Remember that.” He finally released her arm and slinked back into the shadows. 

From his vantage spot, Baelish then studied her as she shakily made her way forward to the dais. Most would view it as marital nerves, but he knew he had made an impression on her. As he gazed about the room, Littlefinger vowed he would do what he did best, and that was turn people against one another to get what he wanted. But he had a feeling he might need help on this one so not to give away what he was truly after. ‘Now where was that Lannister sister? She must not be taking this very well.’ And he sulked off to locate her. 

Jaime noticed how unsettled Brienne was as they were maneuvered to stand next to his father. “I am pleased to announce the betrothal between my son Ser Jaime Lannister heir of Casterly Rock to the Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

Both forced on smiles again as the audience before them cheered.

Then in the back, all hear the sharp sound as the main doors slammed into the wall. A seething Gregor Clegane stormed out of the Great Hall. He could not believe that yet again the Lannister’s got what they wanted and he got nothing. The Mountain was tired of them taking everything that he deserved. Jaime could have had anyone. 

Ignoring the Mountains outburst, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, still a bit jittery. Though she did not like threats, she was smart enough not to ignore them when they were so readily given.

“Come on.” With a glare at his father to try to stop him, Jaime then escorted her away to a quiet chamber off to the side. They ignored the loud cat calls and hoots that followed them. Making sure to lock the door for privacy he then poured her a cup of wine. She took a small sip and after a grimace, handed the rest to him. She was never touching spirits again, well at least not until they were far away from this mad place.

“What the hell is Baelish doing here?” she husked out.

Jaime grounded his teeth as he informed her, “According to father it is because he is an ally to the Lannister’s.”

“What game does your father play?” Now truly fearful, she gazed up at him.

Shrugging Jaime tried to play it off, “With him, who knows. Maybe after all these years it is just so natural that even he isn’t aware of it.”

Recalling the Lord’s threat, she tried not to give him anymore power, but it was difficult. “Baelish threatened to tell your father about my pledge again. I am sure he will embellish it to further his gain.”

At first Jaime hesitated in placing his hand on her good shoulder, but then was relieved when she did not try to pull away from his touch, “Don’t worry. He’d dare not push my father about your oath to Catelyn Stark without raising suspicions as to why he continued to do so. My father knows Baelish well enough to know that he is always doing things for his own gain and not from the kindness of his heart.”

Alarmed she gazed up at him, “Is there any way we can move up our wedding, I’d prefer to be gone sooner than later.”

Jaime nodded in agreement and smiled at her fierceness, “No Brienne, we are here for at least another week.”

She shot to her feet and began to pace. 

He could not help but sound morose about this, “I’m sorry Brienne, I had hoped otherwise but by marrying me you are even more of a target for these people. Baelish is the just the first to crawl out of the shadows who will approach you. Out there beyond these walls is your strength in blades and chivalry. In here it is closer to my families, backstabbers and manipulators. Though I am hardly as good as my father, I have learned a few things about court intrigue and politics. For now I think our best recourse is that we stay close to one another.”

She reluctantly nodded.

“Besides,” he added, “We’re supposedly inseparable.” 

Brienne snorted at his declaration.

Now serious he stated, “Just remember, he will have spies everywhere, they all do, so trust no one.”

She sighed in resignation but then bobbed her head in agreement.

He offered her his arm, “m’Lady.”

Taking it, they both then strolled back out to deal with the intrigue as well as the continued congratulations on their nuptials, but this time they will be together as a united front.

*

The next morning Brienne had tried to hide in her room, but she had been cornered by Vary’s who was asking if there was anything he could get for her. She realized that Jaime was only half right. Now that their marriage was official, people were also trying to court her favor with promises and gifts. 

She had almost escaped before the dress fitters came by to measure her for her wedding gown. Groaning she could already tell that her wedding was going to be out of hand. After she had been poked with the numerous pins and heard the grumbles regarding her size harshly sneered under breath, she knew she had to escape.

So Brienne fled to the practice field whose domain many would not dare venture onto. It seemed as if there was an unwritten rule about nobility and skirmishes and she was grateful for it. 

Currently the ground was still muddy, but then in most combat situations one was never given a choice about the weather conditions. She grabbed a dull tourney sword and began her stretching exercises.

Though there was only a few there, she still felt herself being watched. On more than one occasion she caught the Mountain studying her as she practiced her fighting skills.

Later, Jaime sought out Brienne, “Come on wench, we need the practice.” 

She recalled that she had reluctantly agreed to spar with him last night. Honestly, she was still too worried and upset about what seemed to be out of her control. Court intrigue really wasn’t her specialty. Besides feeling out of her depths, last night’s announcement drove home that there was no escaping their marriage now. She hated the sensation of being backed into a corner with no possible exits.

If Jaime suspected any of her tumultuous thoughts, he smartly kept it to himself. After he stretched, they began their practice drills and she started to relax. It did always feel good to be behind a sword and with the sharp steel in her hand she was in her element. Soon Littlefinger’s threats and fear of enforced marriage were quickly batted aside as she delivered another vicious blow to Jaime’s weapon. 

When she was feeling calmer they took a break and found a quiet spot to relax. 

He carefully flexed his covered wrist as if trying to work out the kinks, “Not bad wench, though I see you are still not at your best.”

Snorting, Brienne laughed and said, “It is you who needs the practice.” She then noticed he was now rubbing his fingers under the metal cuff and she realized that the binding must be chafing his skin.

As if insulted by her words, he grounded out, “Enough rest.” And both went back to what felt more natural than anything else in their lives.

During this, fighters began to watch them and enjoy the intense melees. Soon squires and even knights requested to practice against them. Which was fine, it gave them an excuse to stay on the field longer. They did not stop until dusk began to encroach on the daylight and reluctantly they left the safety of the area to seek out food. As always, they stayed together.

*

They would spar the next day nearly from dawn till dusk, neither of them saying anything. Both had demons they had to work out on their own. And even though things were still tenuous between them, she still felt the safest when she was in his presence. Even when they switched partners, they still would eventually make their way back to the other and once again they would fiercely engage in a relentless battle.

As the next two days progress, the easy banter they once shared slowly came back and it further reminded her of the man she had fallen in love with. By the third day, they effortlessly laugh and are having a fun time with one another. After a lengthy bout, both end up breathless and there is a look shared between them. This is not the first time their sparing has made them feel passionate towards each other.

They also seemed to have gained a following as more and more watched them progressively improve at their fighting ability. Side bets were always placed as to who would win. Though she often did, Jaime’s fighting was getting better, sharper. With the two blades he was eventually going to be a force to reckon with.

One day they both noticed that the visiting Prince Oberyn of Dorne had been attending their impromptu free for all. But then they realize that he seemed more intent on glaring at the Mountain then on watching them.

*

The next morning on the training field, she slowly stretched out her shoulders. An unbridled smile graced her lips as Brienne thought about the man who would be soon coming to spar with her. Sensing his approach, she turned, but it was Littlefinger who confronted her.

He ignored the blade she clutched tight in her hand. There are too many witnesses here for her to be so stupid as to skewer him on the spot, “Little girl, I could have you thrown in the dungeons.” His low voice grumbled out. His spies had told him that between here and taking supper in her room with Jaime, this was the only time he could successfully challenge her when she was alone.

Brienne has had her fill of politics, and as she studied the sharp tip of her blade she stated matter-of-factly, “You shouldn’t underestimate me, Lord Baelish.”

But he was a master of cunning and grinned contritely, “My Lady, you might think you are safe here…”

Exhaling, her glare stopped his further threats, “I am so tired of these games Baelish, these court intrigues. You wouldn’t last a second in my world of honor.” 

The Lord is about to threaten her further when he then noticed that Gregor Clegane is angrily staring at him as he sharpens a very large sword. Baelish wearily observed the obvious intimidation and is surprised that the Mountain was her protector. Then an idea began to percolate in his mind.

Easily getting the hint, Baelish nodded to her and then quickly scurried off.

Then Prince Oberyn approached her. “You are wise not to trust that man.”

“What do you want?” she sighed out in irritation, all she wanted to do was stretch.

He raised his hands in a placating motion. “I too consider myself out of their realm’s depths.”

She snorted at that comment. From what she had seen, he played the field best of all. She turned and scrutinized him. Brienne had also heard he was an amazing, if untraditional fighter, “Tell me, from one warrior to another, what do you make of all this?”  
“Most women would be honored to be pursued by so many suitors.” He indicated the predator like scrutiny in the Mountain’s eyes as he stared pointedly at them.

Now she openly laughed. “I will just settle on not having my head removed from my body.”

As if taking her morbid comment one step further, Oberyn grounded out, “Watch out for him. He is a beast of a man. He tortured my sister as he raped her. And then he killed her and her family.”

She blanched at the news. She then recalled Jamie’s warning as to what type of man the Mountain was. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be, just be careful.” And with that he stormed off. She studied his retreating form and then gazed over to the Mountain. He met her eyes with a knowing smirk. Disgusted, she turned back to doing her battle drills. She really needed to get married and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I really appreciate all of you reading this. You guys continue to help me refine this story to make it better. Thanks!
> 
> And alright GoT. This new season looks like it is going to be great!


	8. Chapter 8

During their week of sparring, Brienne noticed that Jaime had been rubbing the skin under his right wrist guard after every practice. She knew that the metal cuff must be chafing his wrist, so she later spoke to the healer Qyburn. The next day the disgraced Maester dropped off a container of thick salve with the simple instructions to apply it to any skin irritation.

So after the fifth day of practice, she called Jaime over to their bench. “Give me your right wrist.”

He had just finished removing the blade from the iron collar and could not wait to get back to his chambers so he could rub at his inflamed skin in private. 

“Brienne…” he protested, but then realized she was trying to make peace with him.

Frowning, he gave his right arm to her. Brienne carefully scrutinized the contraption that secured his wrist guard to his shoulder. They’ll have to work on that harness. It would take too long to attire if they were suddenly under attack.

Then without difficulty, she removed the brace that secured the metal cuff to his stump. But she was unsure how to release the metal sleeve without hurting him. “Come, show me how to remove it.”

He stared into her eyes and saw no judgment or pity. He had not allowed anyone to touch his wrist since he had first gotten the gold hand shoved down onto his stump.

Carefully he twisted the steel capped sleeve back and forth until it began to come off with a slight sucking sound. His scarred and redden flesh was slowly revealed.

This was the first time he had ever shown her what his ruined wrist looked like after the baths at Harrenhal. Even he was repulsed by his disfigurement and knew others would be as well. 

She did not say a word as her large hands delicately grasped his right elbow and then reverently tucked the irritated and bruised wrist protectively onto her lap. She was pleased he trusted her enough to show her his horrific injury and shared a shy smile with him.

Taking the jar of salve Qyburn had given her, she then began to lightly massage the ointment into his damaged skin. The light scent of lavender and rosemary gently wafted up to his nose.

As she continued to silently apply the healing cream, Jaime recalled his sisters sneer of disgust when she saw it for the first time. From then on, he wanted no one else to ever see it again.

Scooping out some more of the salve she continued to carefully massage it into the skin of his sore wrist. Jaime should have known that Brienne wouldn’t have been repulsed by it, she had certainly seen worse on the battlefield.

Surprisingly the painstaking care that she took with the task was rather sweet and actually pleasurable. A matter of fact, it felt really nice. The combination of relief from the cool ointment and the loving touch began to make parts of him tingle and not unpleasantly.

He sucked in a breath and Brienne stopped, “Am I hurting you.” She asked quietly.

“No, no.” he shook his head. 

“I should have been doing this sooner.” She grumbled to herself as she then added some to the top of his wrist where all the extra skin had been pulled tight to a close.

He could not believe the sensations he was feeling. The coolness of salve gave way to the heat of her caress and he wondered how he would ever be able to stand not having this done by her ever again.

“That feels nice.” He said breathlessly and her intense blue eyes were suddenly staring into his green ones. She smiled and continued gently rubbing in the balm. 

“Guess this will become one of our things.” She finished and softly placed his stump down back on his lap.

“Guess it will.” His tongue licked his dry lips, and then he grinned back at her. “Maybe there is someplace you’d like to have rubbed?” His left hand reached up and began to gently knead her bad shoulder. She grimaced, but not from discomfort. He though continued to massage her shoulder one handed. 

Feeling her finally relax, “Maybe we should take this back to your chambers.” He devilishly stated teasingly and she suddenly tensed up.

“Thank you Jaime, that was good.” 

She pulled back causing him to ground out, “Good? Wench, your ministrations nearly had me ruining my breeches. And you looked as if you were enjoying my rub.” She began to gather her things to flee when he grabbed her arm. “We are to marry in less than a week and now you are shy?”

“Jaime…” she pleaded.

He let go of her arm but quickly followed on her heel as she headed back inside towards her chambers.  
Calling out to her, “You know I tried to tell my father no.”

Brienne did not turn, so he barely heard her caustic reply of, “Yes, you’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about marrying me.”

“What?” She made no sense, was she trying to drive him mad? He quickened his pace and was soon in front of her, blocking her way. “Wench, if it had been anyone else but you, I would have retired to the Great Wall when my father first ordered me to marry.” Seeing that her lip was trembling, he hastily pulled her into a nearby empty room. “Please tell me what is wrong, Brienne.”

She began to tug on her short hair and he smirked as it was soon standing on end from the sweat and grim of their workout as well the ointment from his wrist.

“I feel trapped.” Now he visibly flinched from her words. “Sorry, I know you would also rather not be here either…” She then sat down heavy on the chair he had pulled free for her.

Unfortunately there was no way they could get out of the real issue which was their forced marriage. They could not go against the might of his father. Even if they ran far away, eventually they would be found for no one makes a fool of a Lannister.   
Besides, honor meant more to her than that option and that was what his father had counted on. Though in all honesty she certainly wouldn’t mind being married to Jaime, she just wanted it to be her choice, on her terms.

Realizing this Jaime said, “You’re not used to being forced to do as you are told. You’ve always been able to wiggle out of it somehow until now.” He grinned as she glanced away in silent acknowledgement. “You’ve been on your own for so long…. Brienne, don’t you think it is time to settle down?”

Glumly she nodded, resigned to their fate. “I’m not even out of my twenties and I had all these plans.” Frustrated she put her head in her hands.

“Oh?” Genuinely curious, he sat across from her. “Tell me, my wench.”

She glanced away embarrassed. “I had wanted to see all of Westeros. I have only seen the parts of it.”

With a sly smile he asked, “You know we still haven’t discussed where we wanted to go on our honeymoon. Where does my wench wish to head off to?”

Confidently she declared, “I want to go North, to see the Great Wall.”

He exhaled sharply, “You are horrible at this.”

“What?” she tried to sound innocent, but all it sounded like was a guilty plea.

“You are not going to go off to kill Stannis.” He then saw the determined set of her jaw, “At least not for a while.” He hoped that Stannis would die sooner than later, at least until he could convince her otherwise.

She stubbornly glared at him. He was then tempted to bring up his father’s wishes for heirs into this, but it was time for him to handle things. Besides, she was marrying him, not his father. 

Making sure to stare into her intense gaze, “It is too dangerous, Brienne. He’s got that damn witch and now all of the North backing him up.”

Adamantly she stated, “They’d all back Sansa if she was ruling the North.”

He tiredly nodded, “Eventually. But now is not a good time. There is too much unrest….”

Still she would not back down. “Jaime, there is always too much unrest. Besides, I firmly believe that is the best time to strike.”

Sighing, he grasped her hands in his one. His stump then rested on top of them. It still gleamed from the salve and the smell off of it was comforting. Maybe it was time to bring in his father, or at least some of his traits, “We have to sire heirs first.” His thumb lightly rubbed the palm of her hand. Sure enough, he felt her tense up again but this time she did not pull away from him.

Surprisingly a coy smile spread on her lips. It heartened him and he grinned back in return.

It was almost a whisper when she asked, “Do you love me, Jaime?”

He thought a moment, “Yes, I do, Brienne.” Her blue eyes lit up at his words, “Do you love me?”

Jaime did not take offense when she also briefly deliberated about it. “Yes, I do, Jaime. I would say ever since you jumped into that bear pit to save my life. I thought you had left for good and I had accepted my fate, but then you were suddenly in front of that damn charging beast trying to protect me with just your one hand.” Her smile was wistful, but there was a twinge of fury in her gaze. She would never forgive the Goat for disfiguring him like that. But then would he be the man she loved now otherwise?

With his stump, he carefully lifted her chin up, “For me it was when you were hanging from the parapet. I would have gone over with you if the guards hadn’t arrived. Besides, you’re my best friend, Brienne.” And she was. 

“And you are mine.” She softly replied, eyes enrapturing his.

“We can make this work Brienne, even with my toxic family playing games.” Now he was stubbornly determined.

She squeezed her eyes shut and then nodded as she reopened them. They seemed the clearest blue he had ever seen. He now rested his stump against her cheek. She grasped it gingerly and then lightly kissed it. His eyes flared open in passion.

Jaime couldn’t help but cockily inquire, “Now after most fights, aren’t lovers supposed to exchange kisses?”

Exaggerating a sigh, she humorously groused, “Well, if you insist.”

Tenderly, both moved towards the other till their lips met. For their first kiss it was rather nice. Not cloth ripping, but then neither wanted this to lead to anything more until after their wedding. They both pulled back grinning. He stared at her lips and licked his own tasting her once more. Of course practice was never a bad thing either and Jaime kissed her once again.

*

The next day the weather was gorgeous so Jaime met Brienne at her chamber door instead of out at the practice field. As she quizzically stared at him, “It’s such a lovely day I thought we could go riding. There’s this one amazing spot that I think you will enjoy.”

She nodded pleased. Arriving at the stables, both noticed that there seemed to be more riders preparing than normal. 

Exchanging a rueful grin, Jaime realized that his secret jaunt with Brienne had gotten out faster than he planned. No matter. “We ride, my Lady.” He yelled out with a dramatic flourish. 

Quickly the other riders got onto their horses. The pursuing group was not just spies with orders to follow, but different nobles who wanted favors from them.

As Brienne and Jaime rode from the stables, they took a rather sedate ride. Every now and then, Jaime would glance nonchalantly over his shoulder at the riders behind them. After a brief time, he then grinned at Brienne. Silently they both nodded to one another.

Suddenly they charged off, quickly distancing themselves from their surprised retinue. Soon they easily lost them and then the couple allowed their horses to cantor for a while to cool off.

They then rode for a bit more until he led them to the open pasture that overlooked the ocean. He was right, the view was magnificent.

Brienne bitterly wondered if he had ever taken Cersei here and then quickly shushed that voice. He was obviously trying to make things right between them. She was the one who continued to bring up Cersei’s influence. And it was now time for her to win for once and not that spiteful creature.

Jaime pulled free a large blanket from the horse and she unfurled it for him. He then brought over his saddle bags that were filled with various goodies. It was a resplendent feast for a picnic and she took joy that her first romantic outing was with a man she truly loved.

Between grinning mouthfuls they ate in silence. Once finished, they relaxed shoulder to shoulder leaning against a large tree trunk. The picturesque scenery before them was too romantic to ignore and they shared a loving kiss.

Jaime had an ulterior motive for bringing her so far away from the prying eyes of all. He had some very important things to discuss with her. He still had no idea how to convince her not to go after Baratheon. Knowing she preferred honesty he reluctantly pulled back from her lips, “Brienne, I don’t want you going after Stannis.”

She sighed out, “I can put my pledge on hold for a while longer.”

“Long enough for us to have some children?” She still had not answered his question from last night. He would not allow her to duck it again.

She snorted and barely turned her head to answer, “I am well aware of this legacy your father insists on. But what do you want?” Now she gazed into his eyes. 

Jaime smiled wistfully, “I’ve always wanted ones of my own. Children that I can show affection to in the open…” She realized how hard this was for him as well. “And you?” He added.

“I worry they will look like me.”

Tenderly he lifted her chin up so he could stare into her amazing expressive eyes, “I’m not. If they have half your inner beauty and strength, they will be amazing.”

Brienne still would not accept his kindness, “They will be ridiculed.”

He began to hotly disagree, but then amended his thoughts, “Then that means they will someday find the one who loves them for who they are. Besides, you personally know that external beauty can often mask the ugliness within.” He tucked a piece of her straw colored hair behind her ear.

The Maid of Tarth then realized that maybe her life up to this point had been worth some of the suffering and ridicule that she had endured. She had prevailed over all that and had found someone that loved her, for who she is. What could be a truer meter of love, she did not know. 

Worried he had scared her off, his voice cut through her thoughts, “Brienne?”

Now she smiled and directed her gaze once again to him. “It is nothing. I am blessed to be marrying a man who is worthy of me as I of him.”

It was his turn to now ignore her kind words, “Oh Brienne, I will never be worthy of you.”

She took in his sad green eyes and empathically stated, “Now who doesn’t understand how wonderful they are? You have overcome so much,” she moved to grab his covered stump and he involuntarily flinched. He then let’s her grasp it delicately in her hand. “You are also the man who continues to elevate his own inner beauty to his outer one by correcting past transgressions.” His eyes flared as she touched his cheek.

He still did not fully believe her, “I will never be as great as you think I am.”

Nodding, Brienne did not disagree, “And the same goes for me. We both have the tendency to build the other up higher than what is real. But now that we have each other, we will make sure that the other stays grounded.” She then gave him a chaste kiss as if sealing a deal.

Jaime hugged her close now and whispered in her ear, “I want you to know that even without my father’s meddling, I would have eventually asked you to marry me.”

“Then maybe we should name our first child after him as thanks for kicking you to hurry up.” He felt her grin into his hair.

He began to snort, then asked curiously, “First child?”

Shyly she pulled back and glanced at his amused features, “Well, we do have a rather large castle we need to fill.”

Incredulous that all his dreams might finally be coming true, Jaime asked, “And you don’t mind? You’d be doing most of the work.”

Her grin was all humor, “Well it will only for the first couple months, then we will both share the responsibility.”

Jaime smiled pleased at the thought of their children running around the castle, getting into all sorts of mischief. He then tugged her into a tight hug.

“And a lioness does have many cubs.” She added softly.

“Yes,” he growled in her ear, “Yes they do. Many, many….” then he kissed her passionately.

After a few minutes of this, both then relaxed in each others arms.

Jaime gazed out at the water before them. With a wistful tone he murmured, “It will be odd running the castle I grew up in. Did you ever do anything like that on Tarth?”

Brienne shrugged then glanced over at him, “My father had me help him run the island, but it would hardly be at that large of scale. You?”

“Father preferred me at the sword. I’ve always had an issue with reading.” He scowled at the memories.

“I enjoy reading.” She delicately ran her large finger along his frown line, making his hard features soften.

Gently he asked her, “Maybe you can read to me sometime.”

“Yes, I know just the book.” She impishly stated at him.

Jaime chuckled as he nuzzled her neck, “Good and then when we are at Casterly Rock you will run the castle and I will defend it.” He suddenly squeezed her tight, preventing her outraged form from hitting him.

She was still able to squirm free and now faced him, “Oh no. I am not going to be throne bound while you have all the fun.”

Jaime contemplated for a moment, “Well this is going to be an interesting marriage… I know. We’ll spar on all disagreements, the looser concedes to the victor. And it does not always have to be by the sword… but then you might prefer otherwise.” As he suggestively wagged his eyebrows at her he glanced cheekily downwards at his crotch. 

Mockingly she sighed out, “Remember, I have seen you ‘sword’ Ser, it is more of a dirk.”

He scoffed out insulted. “Water affects men in certain ways. Besides you say that now. You will enjoy my sword soon enough, wench.”

She ignored his innuendo, so he reiterated his earlier challenge, “Do you agree? Whoever yield’s in the argument, looses.”

Meeting his mischievous grin with a challenge of her own, she mused out, “Well let’s see.” And she suddenly lunged at him. 

Both laugh good naturedly as they grapple one another. She is bigger and easily has him under control until his stump inadvertently brushed against some bare skin at her waist. Flinching she gasped out a titter and instinctively tried to move away. 

“Ah, my wench is ticklish!” 

She shrieked when he pounced on her and then Jaime proceeded to tickle her mercilessly.

“I yield!” she soon yelled out between fits of uncontrollable laughter. He ruefully reflected that this might explain why she did not enjoy being unnecessarily touched.

“That’s more like it,” he said smugly, and leaned back cocky. “Now for your attempt at cheating, I want a gift.”

Her eyes flared at his accusation. Then with her face flushed and wanton eyes staring into his, she panted out, “What does my lord wish for?”

He did not want to deter her flirty nature by saying what he was really dying to do to her which was, ‘spread your legs so I may taste you,’ so instead he made sure his tease was mild.

“Feed me, wench.” He then scooted down so his head is resting on her lap. With care she began to feed him some left over grapes. He rather enjoyed this. 

Coquettish she inquired, “Is this to your satisfaction, my lord?”

“Oh, it’s a start.” He grinned up at her.

“What else do you wish?” Though she appeared innocent now, he could tell she was up to something.

Wanting to see how far he can push her he demanded, “Some dessert would be nice.”

At first the bites are small, but soon they are larger. “Are you trying to choke me, wench?” She smirked and shoved the remainder into his face, getting it everywhere. “The name is Brienne.”

He yelled in mock outrage and once again they wrestle. Soon both of their faces are covered in cake.

When Jaime tried to tickle her again, she grabbed his wrists in one hand, “Not this time, Lannister.”

Once properly pinned down under her, she instead now tickled him. He did not have as many sensitive spots as she did, but she did enjoy hunting for them. Between guffaws of unrepressed giggles, he was able to gasp out, “I yield my Lady!” Now it was her turn to appear smug. Pleased he asks, “What do you wish for?” 

She liked this game. Brienne then pointed to the dessert that was all over her face, “Clean it off.”

“Anything my Lady wishes.” And he then proceeded to show her that he did not need hands and instead used his tongue to slowly lick it all off. Which naturally led to other enjoyable pastimes.

Soon their passion was so heated they could not wait until their marriage night. Five days felt like forever.

*

The next morning, Brienne was aimlessly wandering about in the gardens. She and Jaime had promised to meet there for the walk they kept postponing. She figured he must have been suddenly called mysteriously away because it was the Lady Olenna that she just happened to run into first.

Before the Maid could bow and formally excuse herself, the older woman grasped her large hand in her own. “You look positively radiate, my dear.” The Thorn crooned pleasantly.

Nearly touching her face in fear that her freckles were actually glowing, Brienne then made herself shyly nod. “Thank you, my Lady.” Olenna chuckled at her naiveté.

“And how are you enjoying your stay here?” She innocently inquired, once again preventing the younger woman from escaping.

“It is most… interesting.” Brienne forced out a coquettish titter that was so bad that even the courtly Lady of Highgarden could not help but raise an eyebrow at it. Brienne quickly coughed to try to hide her poor acting skills.

The Thorn had the good grace not to call attention to her actions and instead pulled her along further toward a secluded area.   
“My advice young lady is do not let love distract you from the troubles surrounding you. Especially in regards to court life here at King’s Landing.”

Brienne was getting tired of her ingenuousness being constantly pointed out to her and in frustration petulantly said, “I have been to court before.” 

The mirth that had been in the older woman’s eyes changed to coldness, “True, but soon you will be ruling beside a very powerful man. You will be the mother to the heirs of the Lannister name. People will want things from you.” Now they stopped in a cul-de-sac of beautiful flowers.

“Including you?” Brienne softly asked.

Lady Olenna released her arm. She spoke low so only Brienne could hear her, “Always know that we are allies.”

Brienne internally sighed. She might as well take her up on her offer of help then, “And what is your opinion about those who seek my favor?”

“Be wary. There are always strings attached when power is concerned. As I am sure you already know from dealing with Tywin Lannister.” Olenna side eyed her expectantly.

The Maid was rather unnerved by these troubling words, and tried to ignore the obvious by stating, “I hardly think I am that powerful.”

The older lady scoffed at her weak denial, “My dear, if they are willing to come to you, then that is power rather you like it or not. The trick is to use it to your advantage.”

“I am not some naïve girl.” Now she was mad which made the Thorn smile pleased. She hugged the woman’s larger arm closer to her as if to shake Brienne.

“You are if you don’t use your strengths as an asset. You have more genuine supporters than you think.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Her voice was small, she was not used to people being kind to her.

Olenna strained to do so, but she made sure she could stare into the taller woman’s eyes, “Because I believe that good and honorable people should win from time to time.” The words of ‘no honor’ bounced through Brienne’s head at the thought of the Lady Olenna’s grandson unknowingly marrying a woman who carried another man’s child. But smartly, she kept her thoughts to herself. “Besides, you are a rare gift. You were the one to tame a lion. Ah, there is your husband to be.” 

Jaime rushed over in concern and protectively stood beside his intended. All of which was not lost on the older woman. “Not to worry Ser Jaime, as I was telling the Lady Brienne, you are among friends.”

“And what fetching friends we have.” He kissed her wrinkled hand.

Olenna laughed. “You two have a wonderful day. It is perfect weather to be out in the gardens.”

Before the Torn could go, Brienne leaned over and hugged her gingerly as if afraid she would crush the octogenarian, “Thank you.”

With a smile and a light proper coquettish twitter, the Lady of Highgarden left them.

Making sure that the Lady Olenna was out of ear shot, Jaime hushed out to the younger woman, “Do not trust her, Brienne.”

Sadly the Maid of Tarth nodded in agreement, “I know, but she is the closest ally I have.”

Jaime tugged her closer, “I am your closest ally.”

Brienne grumpily stated, “Of course, but we will eventually need her assistance when we are back home.” She softly added, “I just hope she can someday forgive me.”

Hugging her tighter, he empathically declared, “It will be alright and all will work itself out.” He released her to be able to gaze into her eyes, “And I like that you call it home.”

“My home is wherever you are.” She whispered back honestly.

They began to share a passionate kiss, but are interrupted by Varys.

Exhaling loudly, the bride and groom realize that they will hardly get any peace now that they are officially a couple. “Yes Spider, how may we help you?” Jaime forced out jovially.

The man’s thick neck hardly allowed for him to dip his head in the direction that the Lady Olenna had just taken, “The Lady is right. You will need allies here and at Casterly Rock.”

“And you are that help.” Jaime tiredly asked. He was already exasperated regarding court intrigue and he was bewildered at how his father could stand being around such untrustworthy people all the time. No wonder he was so paranoid. Jaime vowed that he once again would not be like his father. At least he already knew he had one person he could trust. He clasped her closer.

The large man effortlessly shrugged. “Always.”

“We appreciate your offerings and will let you know, come along Ser Jaime.” Brienne pulled him along before he could mockingly say something caustic to the man who had spies everywhere.

They then notice that others were trying to catch up with them. Some surreptitiously hung back, while others began to march forward to get their attention. 

Jaime frowned at the potential time loss, “We best split up. Meet me where true love was realized.”

And he melted into the shadows, taking half the spies and followers with him. She knew he either meant Harrenhal or the parapet. Smirking at the absurdity of it all, she then went to work losing the people that were on her own tail.

*

Thankfully it did not take them long to lose their pursuers. Though in Brienne’s case, it was a bit tougher because of her size, plus she was unaware of any good places to duck into to hide. 

Soon they breathlessly meet at the parapet. Without a thought, each one grabbed the other and began to ardently kiss. 

As they catch their breath, both lean onto the others shoulder. Brienne cannot believe she was actually going to get everything she had always wanted. She could not keep the spark of joy from her observation, “All through my childhood I had read stories of princesses and their knights. But once I realized no one would marry me, those fanciful stories became burnt ash in my mind. But you have shown me that happy endings do occur.”

He pulled back, unable to control his own jubilance, “Oh and there will be many more happy endings, or in this case beginnings, wench. Here.” Jaime hands her a large cloth wrapped present. He can’t believe he felt giddy like a teenager. This was the first time he could openly court someone without repercussions. 

Pleased to receive her first gift from her betrothed, she shyly untied it and made sure to take her time so to savor this moment. With a gleam of joy in her eyes, she held up her present. Her pretty green dress had now been cleaned and mended. “I remember you telling me this was a gift from your father. I knew you would want to keep it.”

She smiled coyly and leaned in kissing him. Then she flinched when something short and pointy poked her stomach. He was holding another brightly clothed but smaller wrapped package between them.

“Sorry, my other gift to you.” He handed it to her and this time she quickly pulled from it an exquisite ornate gold dagger that had the head of a lion on the pummel’s end. Its two eyes were bright blue sapphires.

“Oh, Jaime.” She had never seen anything so beautiful and so representative of them.

“This is where it goes.” He then showed her on her dress where he had a slim pocket made near her inner thigh slit so she could hide the dagger there. “That way my lady never has to go to court defenseless again.”

She happily showed him how much she enjoyed her rather practical gifts.

They start getting friskier and finally decide they better take this to the practice field or her honor would be besmirched.  
*

Later as they spar, a new visitor watched them and he reluctantly accepted that they did work well together. Selwyn noticed how joyful his daughter was and knew regrettably that the Lannister heir was the one for her. He was still concerned that Jaime would hurt her. Or his family would.

Brienne then noticed her father and trotted over breathless. Jaime followed close behind her. They keep sharing secret smiles to one another.

After a few cordial words, Jaime gave them space with the excuse that he must attend to something or other. Grateful, she watched him saunter away.

“Come daughter, walk with me to my chambers.” He had wondered if his cautious tone would make her hesitate, but still she had the most ridiculous grin on her face.

As they walked, Brienne quickly glanced around. After making sure the spies are too far away to overhear, she worriedly asked, “Is everything alright? I only assumed that Littlefinger’s persistent threats proved that he was still desperate to find her.”

“Your charges are fine. Getting impatient. And they were also surprised as I about your sudden nuptials.” His bushy greying eyebrows flexed in consternation.

“Yes, things move rather fast here.” She brightened her smile, “But the sooner I wed, the faster we can get to Casterly Rock and send for your guests.”

He carefully studied her. It was odd to hear her talk so happily about marriage. And though he was more accepting of Jaime, he was still troubled, “Are you happy?”

She vigorously nodded.

“And you love him?”

“Yes father, I really do.” He sighed and knew he just had to accept this new future for her. Besides, if she was happy then that was all that mattered to him. But it would be difficult having such powerful and duplicitous in-laws. “Alright, tell me everything…” and arm in arm they continued onwards.

*

That night there was a party to welcome the new, albeit reluctant father in law to the family. Jaime reassured him with the fact that any excuse to toast cups was never lost on his family.

They now sat together and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Jaime still could not help but feel blessed. Not only was he was going to marry a wonderful woman and his best friend, but he had gotten word from his brother that he was still alive and doing rather well. He had already ingratiated himself into Stannis’ group of advisers. 

He was at first reluctant to share the good news with Brienne, afraid she would start another tirade about her oath to kill Stannis. Instead she was pleased that Jaime’s brother was alright. It seemed she was sticking to her vow that she would hold off from seeking revenge against that traitorous Baratheon. Though he should not be surprised, once his wench made a pledge, she stuck by it.

During the festivities, Cersei continued to whisper disparaging words into different people’s ears. Especially to her new husband, “I don’t know how you can allow that cow to live after she killed your King.” Then Cersei’s mouth curved up sickened. Perversely she made the connection that the beast also shared the same title of Kingslayer as her brother!

From the dais, Margaery stared at her brother in concern. She was worried that Cersei’s torments were going to make her already henpecked brother either go mad or suicidal. She could tell that her grandmother felt the same way. Already they had tried to hide him away from that conniving Lannister sister, but now that they were married they saw no relief for him.

Clueless to his sister’s machinations, Jaime was talking jovially with the soon to be father-in-law. He really wanted Brienne’s dad to like him or at least accept him. It was a battle, but Jaime was a tenacious young man.

Selwyn’s protectiveness towards his daughter began to relax around the young Lannister.

He could tell that Jaime loved her. Especially how he had doted on her while she convalesced at Tarth. The few conversations they had there proved he could be a good match for his daughter.

With a deep exhale, the tension left the older man’s shoulders. He truly hoped this worked out for her. He then sighed. No, Jaime was fine, it was his family that worried him.

Brienne had momentarily excused herself and was now on her way back to her table when Lord Baelish suddenly intercepted her. She exhaled loudly and eyed him in displeasure. Frankly she was getting really tired of all these toxic court maneuverings and was tempted to just grab Jaime and elope.

Littlefinger followed her brief gaze to her table and with a tight smile that instantly raised her hackles, he threatened out, “Your father seems rather frail, I hope he does not suddenly fall ill and…”

Before he could further threaten her loved ones anymore, he suddenly felt the sharp prick of her dagger as she pushed it against his delicates. “Ehrm…”

Enjoying his squirming, she grounded out, “Lord Baelish, I may not have your deft tongue, but I do have a steady hand. Tell me, were there any survivors from the garrison that you sent after us?”

Blanching as she applied more pressure, Baelish recalled how fearful the lone survivor was of this one woman. As he horribly died from his wounds he had stuttered out that it was as if she had been possessed by the Warrior himself.

Brienne took in his paling features and smirked at her win, “Then I suggest you keep your concerns to yourself.”

Suddenly he no longer felt the pressure below and with a short bow to him, she sauntered back to her family. She heard him hiss out, “I warned you…” but she had already moved on.

Smug she sat back at her table and Jaime gazed at her quizzically. She shrugged indicating that she would tell him later. She then laughed as he held up a forked piece of meat for her to eat. He shrugged, “I enjoy feeding you.”

As she coyly accepted it, all heard a commotion two tables down where the recent newlyweds sat.

Loras’ drunken grumbles grow louder. Then he yelled out, “Enough woman!” He angrily shoved his wife away from his ear and then lurched to his feet, knocking his chair noisily to the ground. 

A love struck Jaime stopped feeding food off his plate to the equally enamored Brienne and now both stare shocked as the young Lord of Flowers began to stumble towards their table. “You!” Loras yelled at them, “You Kingslayer!” At first Jaime thought it was him that Loras was accusing, until he realized that it was Brienne he was pointing at.

Both stand as one. In an inebriated rage, Loras staggered closer and challenged out to Brienne, “You killed Renly. You are a traitor, Blue Brienne.” The accusatory words felt like a dagger to her heart.

Instantly everyone turned their attention to the heated young man. 

“That’s not true. I told you what really happened.” Quietly she spoke to him in hope that her relaxed tones would calm him down. 

Instead it made him even angrier, “Oh yes, you say the specter of Lord Stannis did it. Yet you are the only witness left alive that claimed Renly had been killed by a shadow.”

“You say the shadow of Stannis killed Renly? Are you mad?” Cersei and the court chuckled mockingly at Brienne’s justification.

“It is true.” She grounded out, her defensiveness bleeding out as anger.

“Yes, how convenient.” Cersei rang out. “Tell me, does insanity run in your family?”

Ignoring the sarcastic cheerful woman, Brienne only focused on Loras, “You know that I would never hurt Renly. I was in his personal guard to protect him.”

“Maybe when you realized he could never love you, you lost your temper and murdered him.” Loras slurred. Already his sister Margaery had made her way over to him, hoping her presence would sooth him.

“Never!” Brienne hissed, no longer caring to be the serene one. “It was my sworn duty to safeguard him.”

Loras studied her proud figure up and down with contempt. “And you did it so well. How ironic that you are also marrying a Kingslayer. Your kind must gravitate towards one another”

As the crowd loudly jeered at her, Brienne finally lost her temper and tact, “How can you say those things? I have always accepted how Renly felt about you. There is no need to feel worried over his love for you, my lord.” She practically spat out in anger. 

“How dare you!” Loras lunged at her, but he was held back by others. Finally getting under control, he quickly glanced over at his wife, and then turns back to Brienne. “Fine, then I challenge you to Trial by Combat. If you are innocent of Renly’s death, then you have nothing to fear from the Gods.”

Jaime quickly grasped her arm, but Brienne was too heated to stop now, “Fine, Ser Flowers, I accept your challenge. I have already beaten you once at Bitterbridge! Even now I can do it again.” She tested her still healing shoulder which caused her grimace of a threat to appear feral.

Pleased with how this worked out, Loras snidely intoned, “Oh, you won’t be fighting me. I call Gregor Clegane as my champion.”

As if by magic, the Mountain strode purposely forward from a darkened corner. “It will be my honor to represent you in combat.”

The crowd gasped at this. Jaime attempted to protest, but a glaring Brienne was already nodding her acceptance to Gregor’s challenge. Still too worked up, she was not thinking this through properly.

All then stare at a flummoxed King Tommen, who now worriedly glanced at his grandfather, “Erm yes. Lady Brienne, do you name a champion?”

Jaime began to step in front of her, but she rested her large hand on his shoulder and easily pushed him back. “No, I will fight Ser Gregor.” She was beginning to calm down and was realizing her folly. 

Resigned the King morosely agreed to the contest. It was so much easier when he was with his cats. “Then tomorrow we will have combat.”

Jaime quickly glanced at his father for help, but he was too busy staring daggers at his daughter. Tywin eyes had earlier searched out Cersi and his suspicions were justified. A very self-satisfying smirk graced her lips. He knew it was a win-win for her. Either her husband or Jaime’s paramour would die tomorrow.

Cersei wasn’t through though and innocently spoke up, “Do you think it is such a wise idea for her to be free, she might try to run away?”

Brienne barely contained her rage at such an offense. A seething Jaime stood by her side at the ready.

Tywin spat out, “Yes, the accusation of murder means the Lady Brienne is to stay in the dungeon.” With the King’s nod, the guard’s marched up and stood on either side of her.

Cersei called out, “And put her in irons. She did kill the Hound after all.”

“Yes, yes.” Tywin fluttered his hand impatiently at the guards.

Jaime tried to push forward, but the guards shoved him and Selwyn back.

Just before they escorted her away, Littlefinger deftly removed the hidden dagger Brienne had in her dress and tossed it back to an enraged Jaime.

Lord Selwyn was poised to suddenly attack. He knew he could not trust this family! Brienne then glanced his way and he saw the sadness her in gaze. With a slight shake of her head, he took a deep breath and nodded he would behave. For now.

Once Brienne was gone from the room, Margaery tried to talk sense to her brother, “No Loras, what are you doing? You know she is innocent.” Alas that beautiful blond twin snake had already goaded him and his pride to much. 

“Is she?” He grumbled out and stormed from the room. 

Margaery stared at her brother and then she recalled what her grandmother had said about him. He never had forgiven Brienne for besting him on the tourney field.

As Jaime and Selwyn go to follow Brienne, the guards still would not let them through.

“Ser Jaime, Lord Selwyn.” Tywin’s disgruntled voice called out. “Perhaps it is best if you leave her be for the moment.”

Jaime glared at his father and reluctantly nodded. There was nothing he could personally do for her now anyway. Before Jaime could approach him, Tywin got up and strode from the room.

Cursing, Jaime knew he had to do something to help her, but already the crowd was thinning out. With no more drama the festivities became a muted affair and most adjourned for the evening. He sneered at all of them in anger. Now that blood was demanded they would slink off and hide until they could once again cheer and jeer at the giantess in the morrow. The young Lannister wondered if she would ever get a break. He had hoped to shield her but all he did was make her a bigger target. He felt guilty because he knew Cersei had something to do with this. Tiredly he rested his hand on his father-in-laws shoulder.  
With a stern promise to the older man he stated, “If needs be I will break her out tonight.”

Selwyn sadly stared at him, “You know she would never willingly do that.” And he limped off leaving Jaime alone.

Jaime frantically then scouted around for King Tommen. He noticed that Margaery was by his son’s side, urgently talking to him. As Jaime approached he heard her plaintive pleas to free Brienne, but the still too young King resolutely shook his head, “Even I cannot go against the ancient rules of combat.”

Margaery and Jaime shared a concerned glance.

The Thorn had already hustled off in search of her grandson, but even Jaime knew it would do no good. Either the Lord of Flowers was sleeping off his drink, or Cersei had him squirreled away where no one would find him until it was too late.

Now frustrated, Jaime stalked off alone.


	9. Chapter 9

A pissed Tywin called his recalcitrant daughter away for a brief counsel. He could not believe he had underestimated her.   
“Cersei, I know this is all your doing.” His voice dangerously rumbled. If he could send her to the Silent Sisters right now he would.

In righteous indignation she vowed, “I will never leave my son under your care.”

He slammed his fist down hard onto the table, “You need to watch your tongue, daughter. Now I need you to make your husband recant his accusation. This is your last chance Cersei before I have you banished to Highgarden for good.” His voice became a low threat, “I know that you were pregnant before you married Loras.” 

Cersei knew she had disguised her rounding form better than that. He wouldn’t have known the full truth unless, “That cow told you!? Oh you must love that. Tell me are you training her to replace the Dog that she had killed, father? No, it’s more than that. You’re protecting her, aren’t you?”

His steel voice could cut through any of her barriers, “The Lady Brienne would have been a good match for Jaime. You have hurt him by your actions, Cersei. After this, he will never want to see you again.” If the Maid did die, at least something good would come from this, he thought.

“Well you wouldn’t dare say anything to the Tyell’s father. You need their coin too much.”

She doubted her brother would hate her for long. Already she was thinking of a plan to bring Jaime with her back to Highgarden.

Her far off arrogant sneer made him want to toss her out the window. But she was still family.

“Just leave.” He grounded out and a triumphant Cersei had a little bounce to her step. 

For once he did not know what to do. There was no way to save the Maid of Tarth and he was surprised that it even remotely bothered him at all. She was just some highborn from a minor house. But there was something about her spirit and honor that made him regretful that she had gotten tied up in this jealously. He sighed. Maybe it was just as well she was to die tomorrow. People with such morals could never survive court life for long.

*

Jaime has been running around ragged, talking to anyone who had power to stop this fight. No one could help him and his father still refused to see him.

Distraught and with no honorable solutions, he strode toward the dungeons. He hoped he could reason with Brienne to escape. Vary’s had promised Jaime that he would help sneak her from the Red Keep and get her on a ship that would take her somewhere safe across the seas. Jaime vowed to himself that he would track her down when all of this had blown over. 

Suddenly Lord Baelish was in front of him and Jaime barely stopped himself in time from punching him. Instead he shoved him back hard against the wall. His stumped arm pressured Littlefinger’s throat, while his other hand was poised to strike.

Between choked breaths, Baelish tried to calm down this fierce lion, “Now, now Ser Jaime. It would not do you any good to hurt me, not when I have the evidence that could clear your lady love.” 

Reluctantly, Jaime took a step back, but he was still on his guard. “What do you have?”

“I don’t know if she ever told you, but I was there at the camp the night Renly was killed. I had run in just as she and the Lady Catelyn had escaped. I even have the knife that killed Renly, one that I can vouch for that was not hers.” He showed the young Lannister the ornate dagger that had Lord Stannis’ crest on it. 

Hopeful, Jaime stared at it and then up into the calculating eyes of Littlefinger.

“All you have to do is confirm if Sansa is at the Wall or at Tarth. You don’t even have to say it, just point North or South. She’ll never have to know.” His smooth tones of the possibilities almost made Jaime reveal Sansa’s whereabouts. But then he mentally saw Brienne’s imploring bright blue eyes beseeching him otherwise. He was not that desperate, not yet. He would talk to her first and then see what their options are.

Giving him a lion’s sharp toothy grin, Jaime coolly stated, “Let me get back to you, Lord Littlefinger.” 

“Fine.” Baelish spat out, “But you don’t have much time.”

Littlefinger knew that Lannister would eventually tell him what he needed to know. Jaime would do anything for his lady love to survive. 

With a sneer Baelish thought he wouldn’t say just how healthy she would be afterwards. She had embarrassed him after all. With a knife to his balls no less and though she was not a political player she already had strong allies and a strong arm. It would feel good knocking her down a few pegs. Besides, he knew that once he revealed to her that her beloved Jaime had given away what she so closely guarded with all her honor, it would hurt her deeply.

*

Jaime nodded to the guard as he approached the dungeon door. 

The large door was shoved open. As it closed behind him, the dim light revealed that they had her change into a tunic and breeches. 

He noticed that her green dress was once again discarded in the corner. Brienne stopped her lunges and noticed where his eyes rested. “I swear that dress is cursed.” She mumbled out at him. She had tried to do her best with the practice drills, but was being hampered by the manacles that tightly encircled her wrists.

Jaime’s wane smile was forced and he was instantly by her side. It is a bit difficult for her to hug him, but they manage.

“Are you okay?” He pulled back and stared into her tired blue eyes. They had seemed to lost some of their luster.

Brienne only momentarily allowed him to see her fear. She then quickly nodded and her grip tightened on his shirt before she released her hold on him, but neither let go of the others hand.

She stared at him and her eyes seemed to shimmer in sadness.

“Come now wench, it is not that dire.” He cockily smiled out.

Brienne snorted at his obvious denial.

He then pushed her further back and his tone belayed the seriousness of her situation, “Brienne we have a means to smuggle you out of here.” She frowned at his words. Worried that her honor would cause her to throw him out without hearing his plan, he realized he had to change his strategy. 

Then inspiration hit and he figured that he could use her sense of duty to change her stubborn ways, “We will escape across the seas together and look for Ayra in Braavos.” He grinned slyly at her. He hoped she would not see how he had manipulated her original pledge to save her honorable but still very obstinate hide.

She sighed and walked away causing him to internally scream at her inflexibility.

“I cannot…” her angry frustration made her shackles noisily shake.

Jaime stepped in front of her, halting her fevered pacing, “Why? Why do you let your damn honor supersede survival?”

“It is all I have ever had Jaime.” Her voice was so small, his heart nearly broke.

“Fine, fine…” he did not want to bring this up but he had to at least try, “Littlefinger says he has the weapon that killed Renly and promises he would vouch that it is not yours.”

“The weapon had been a shadow.” She distantly muttered out crossly.

Now even Jaime wondered if she was sane. She had never fully revealed the whole story about Renley’s death. He had hoped that by now she would have trusted him as he had her about his own deepest secrets regarding his killing of King Aerys. But his wife to be was still reticent about certain times in her tumultuous young life.

She recognized his look of disdain. “Trust me, Stannis used horrible magic, Jaime.”

“So,” he snapped out, “I need you to live and if that means lying then so be it. Let us take Littlefinger’s deal…”

“Damn-it Jaime, no. I will not sacrifice Sansa on some lie to save my life. That would be two honors that I have broken. Besides this needs to go on record that Stannis killed Renly.”

Jaime grabbed her good shoulder and lightly shook her, “You cannot win against the Mountain, Brienne.” He made sure his voice sounded determined. “I will fight for you.” He hoped that by saving her he could get some redemption for all the horrible things he has done during his life. And he certainly could not let her die over the machinations of his family.

She shook her head vehemently ‘no’. 

“Why won’t you let me help you?” he hissed out.

But already he could see her building up her defensive walls, “This is something I cannot allow others to do.”

“Stop protecting me, Brienne. Damn-it wench, let me be your champion. My father will make a deal with the Mountain…” His father could get Gregor to go easy on him. Though he would be painfully beaten, at least they would both be alive. He figured any scars gained would be worth it. He held her cheek with his stump.

“I will not risk it. He hates you so much, Jaime.” Brienne kissed he stump and sadly smiled, “I am the one who fights best with swords while you with words. So unless you are going to have a yelling match…” She knew her words hurt him, but maybe it was just as well, they needed a clean break. “You must find someone else to rule by your side.” She released his stump and took a step back from him.

“I only want you.” He softly intoned to her.

Her whole life she had wanted to hear those words, how ironic it was to be on the eve of her possible death. Nodding she said heartfelt, “Thank you, Ser Jaime. For everything.”

The words recalled another bittersweet send off when she had to stay back at Harrenhal.

Recognizing the significance, he sadly stared into her sapphire colored eyes, perhaps for the last time, “And to you, my Lady Brienne.”

Jaime knew she would be too stubborn to change her mind but he had to try to stop this fight. With a formal bow, he left. He would see his father even if meant kicking down the damn door.

*

Shortly after Jaime’s exit, Brienne’s father stormed into the dank dungeon.

She stood as proud as she could before him, but he easily saw through her façade. As he pulled her in tight for a hug, she could not help but feel like a child again and began to cry at the unfairness of it all. 

It only took her a few moments before she pulled herself back together again. She stood back and pursed her lips at his concerned features.

Just before he can utter a word, she snapped out, “No, you will not fight for me. I have to fight my own battles.”

Lord Selwyn first tried his stern fatherly voice, “Please don’t be a martyr. Sacrifice that damn nobility of yours and escape overseas.” Still she stubbornly declined so he used his pleading voice. “Then have someone else champion for you.”

Adamant she would not back down, “Then they will also die.”

He nearly pulled out his hair, “Damn-it daughter, I knew these Lannister’s were trouble.”

Sadly she nodded in agreement. Brienne then wistfully smiled, “Who knows father. I might surprise all of you and beat him.” Her shoulder was feeling a lot better. Also the sparing against Jaime and the others had helped considerably to strengthen it and she had learned a few new moves.

His mouth was a grim line and he nodded stoically. If his daughter could be strong, then so could he. “By hook or crook daughter, you will be avenged.”

Tiredly she let the tears flow freely and once again they embrace. He hoped it would not be for the last time.

*

After threatening to break down his door, Jaime was finally admitted into his father’s study.

Tywin appeared just as frustrated as Jaime did. He quickly held up a hand, forestalling anything Jaime had to say, “I am sorry son, but there is nothing I can do. She fights in the morrow.”

He hated himself for pleading to his father, but he was desperate, “Father, please, there has to be something. Anything?”

Fervently Tywin shook his head, and then grumbled out, “I can have a poison sent to her so she will not suffer, but that is all I can do.”

Jaime reacted as if he had been struck, “Poison? She would never do that.” It wasn’t honorable. “Please, I promise we will go to Casterly Rock right away and punch out prodigy as we were the Frey’s, but please help her.”

Tywin shook his head, refusing to get involved. “We cannot go against the Tyrell’s. We have need of their money. Besides, they are now family, not Brienne of Tarth.”

Jaime hissed out in anger and stormed from the room.

Though it did peeve him that his daughter had bested him, Tywin hoped that the Tarth woman had the last laugh and beat the Mountain. She had surprised them before. With a discouraged snort, he then realized that Jaime would just have to get a new bride. Tiredly he began to look at potential allies that were scattered across his desk. 

Suddenly irked with it all, he shoved half the contents of his desk onto the floor. In frustration he realized that it had been a long time since his meticulous plans have been ruined, and by a family member nonetheless! He then figured he shouldn’t be too upset, it seemed he had trained his daughter better than he had thought.

*

A desperate Jaime now pounded on his twin sister’s door. Her smug voice filtered out and Jaime shoved the door open. A contrite Cersei sat staring into the fireplace’s raging fire. She barely glanced away and that was only to drink from her cups. 

He also noticed that she had two large guards standing nearby.

“Yes, dear brother?” She knew he would willingly come to her.

All his bluster suddenly seeped from his body and he tiredly asked, “What do you want Cersei.”

Cersei coyly regarded him and he made himself stand up straighter. He could not believe that he once loved this woman. “I want everything… Oh, you mean for something else?”

That was his sister, always playing games. He used to enjoy it when she did that to others, now it just made him realize how pathetic she was. “What would it take for you to convince Loras to back off from his challenge?”

Her smile became enigmatic, “If she is around, you will always think you have a chance to be with her. This way you will not be tempted by the fates.” 

If her personal guards were not there, he would have strangled her on the spot. He was still tempted to see if he could kill her, but knew Brienne would be upset if he died trying because of her.

“You will never win, sister.” He vowed he would go the Great Wall if he had to stay out of her clutches.

“But I already have dear brother.” She conceited out to him.

With a howl of rage that would bring Brienne’s warrior lust to shame, he stalked from the room. Sadly he did not know what else to do and contrary to what his wench would wish, he decided to seek out the nearest tavern, planning to drown out his sorrows.  
He was half way there when he realized he did not want this to be how he spent Brienne’s last night alive and instead headed back to the dungeons. If she was going to practice all night, then he could at least help her spar.

*

The morning of the fight was proving to be just as contrary as the two opponents who were meeting for combat. The sky was overcast and the light drizzle in the air did not seem to damper anyone’s blood lust. The audience knew that they were about to witness a great battle between two giants. The woman who killed the Hound would soon be fighting against the man who wanted to exact revenge for his brother’s death. The murmur of the crowd was louder than normal as the regal dignitaries surreptitiously placed side bets on who would win.

Jaime ignored the sounds of greed around him as he himself anticipated and dreaded what was to come. Even though they had stayed up half the night sparing and talking, he was still too tightly coiled from worry to be tired. He knew the Lady Brienne would be same way.

Shortly the young King and his entourage came out. Once the higher dignitaries were seated, Maester Pycelle stiltedly said the usual spiel about honor and the history of the Trial by Combat. But even Jaime could tell that the audience was impatient for the fight to get started.

Lord Selwyn quietly sat next to the young Lannister. They both closely observed as a proud Brienne was led out by the guards. They then strode to the center of the cement ring of the arena. She was dressed in the armor that Jaime had given her and she had been allowed to keep Oathkeeper with her. 

This was the first time Lord Tywin had seen that sword since he had given it to Jaime. He had wondered what his son had done with it. The Hand Assumed that since his son could not use it, that the unique sword was locked up in the White Tower with all the other relics. At first there was a quiet anger that his son would give such a cherished weapon to someone else. But seeing it now on her hip gave him hope that maybe she could survive this conflict.

Ser Gregor Clegane then confidently stalked out in full armor to stand beside Brienne and these two warriors side eyed one another. While the Mountain held sword and shield, she would for the time being forgo her shield.

Soon they began stretching. Then after doing a few quick slashing moves, they both nod to the King that they were ready to begin.

Tommen signaled and the combatants began to circle one another sizing each other up. Brienne’s grin was feral with a dangerous quirk to it, while the Mountain’s was his usual stoic scowl. 

Jaime was worried for his wench because she was such a conservative fighter. Her usual method seemed to be to wear her opponent down over time, but alas the Mountain would be too resilient for that. Then to Jaime’s utter amazement, there was no usual dance of combat. Instead she charged at the Mountain, slashing and pounding at him with brute strength. 

Brienne had chosen not to fight Clegane as she had always done with Jaime down on the practice field. There Gregor had been able to study her technique and skillful flow. No, this would not be some beautiful dance, besides that was only for Jaime. For now her intensity was bred out of self-preservation. She had hoped her abrasive attack would catch the Mountain by surprise and it worked as Clegane stumbled back in astonishment at the ferocity and the strength of her hits. 

She continued to strike and soon forced him to the edge of the cement ring of the arena.

The next time when their swords clashed, she went to pummel him again, but Clegane held strong this time and instead pushed her back. With a roar he then began his own attack and used brutal hacking hits. Brienne at first tried a two handed defensive grip to block his hard strikes, but the jarring blows re-aggravated the injury to her shoulder. 

As she quickly backed up, she flexed her arm to loosen it. She then motioned to the side and her shield was tossed to her.

Now she changed her tactics and as his next high chop came down, Brienne side stepped it. As she breezed past him, she slashed at his back. 

Most of Oathkeeper’s impact glanced over his armor, but the sharp Valarian steel sliced through the weaker chainmail, cutting him along his waist.

Jaime cheered. He had not forgotten how fluid she could be.

She then spun landing another hard blow but this time his shield took the brunt of it.

Jaime knew she couldn’t fight this hard and as long as the Mountain could.

He then saw her go low to miss the next swing, but Clegane’s large shield followed through and he rammed it hard into her bad shoulder.

This time she audibly gasped from the crack of pain that lanced through her and she stumbled. Her arm went momentarily numb which caused her shield to drop to the ground with a sharp hollow ring. With a triumphant grin, the Mountain kicked it away.

She automatically retreated and shook her left arm as it slowly tingled back awake.

Jaime’s heart sank when he saw a brief flash of worry skitter across her features. From the dais he heard the small gasp of “yes” from his sister.

Now Brienne began to try to fight with her usual dance and skill, but the Mountain was having none of it. Seeing his chance, he pressed his advantage and came in hacking once again. Now it was his brute strength used and it appeared to be successful against her faltering stamina. Hopeless, she could not beat him back and now had to try to block each pounding jolt.

As Brienne ducked another swing she desperately threw her body at him, trying to knock Gregor off balance. He hardly moved from such an attack. Then suddenly she rammed the top of her helm into his chin. With a grunt of pain, he took a step back.

Enraged, he slammed the pummel of his heavy sword downwards. He made sure to put his weight into the blow. The impact was so violent that it actually dented her armor. Thanks to his squire, he knew the exact place to hit her bad shoulder.

Brienne howled in agony and found herself abruptly dropping to her knees. She swore she momentarily saw stars from the excruciating pain. Gregor then easily knocked Oathkeeper out of her grasp. Blurrily she heard Jaime yell at her to get up, but it was the Mountain’s low growl that caught her full attention. 

“You fought well. Now yield.” He pushed her helm off her head so he could see her eyes as they sadly stared up at him in failure.

His dark and foreboding gaze reflected the cruelty and mockery of one so used to getting their way. It was something she had seen in others since it was so often aimed at her. Then Oberyn’s words fluttered through her pained dazed mind of what became of his sister when this brute had gotten a hold of her. 

Brienne’s rising panic was then quickly overrun with anger and she knew that she would not let that to happen to her. She easily allowed the rage to overcome her, to sooth her fear. Frenzied, she shoved his sword to the side and answered with a scream of fury. “Never!” 

She then leapt up bellowing a guttural howl and the dagger that was normally sheathed in her boot was suddenly slashing towards his neck. He leaned back just as her small blade flashed by. As he dodged another wide swing, the Mountain belatedly recognized the symptoms of blood lust. He had seen it on the battle field enough times. The mind just slipped differently and nothing else mattered. But it did make one sloppy and he easily knocked her blade free on the next pass. 

As it clattered to the ground, he noticed that it had a gold lions head with blue sapphire bejeweled eyes.

Now with her left arm no longer feeling sluggish and worthless she connected a couple of hard punches to his face that had Gregor grinning at the fierceness of them. He spat out some blood and ducked the next swing.

As her gauntleted fists continued their onslaught, he audience was taken aback as she lost herself to the violence. As her yells of abject fury bounce around the confines of the yard, Jaime realizes that now all got to witness the savage beauty of a vengeful Brienne of Tarth. Even the heat from her aggressive energy seemed to push all back in their seats. 

As the Mountain knocked her last swing away he used her momentum to help spin her around until she was facing away from him. He then quickly grabbed her in a bear hug, pinning both her arms tightly to her sides. He began to squeeze the fiercely struggling woman and pull her up off the ground. He had wanted both of his hands free but he knew how unpredictable warriors in this state of mind could be, so he dared not drop his blade.

Suddenly she slammed her head back hard enough into his forehead to daze him and he dropped her. Blood trickled into his eyes and he blindly slashed his sword about, hoping to keep her at bay long enough to recover.

As she twisted around to attack him again, his blade connected slicing her thigh. When blood seeped out, Jaime rose to his feet yelling out, “Brienne!”

Brienne was too crazed to retreat as she should have and instead rushed at the blind Mountain. This time she ducked under his wildly swinging strokes and leapt on him. Even with her weakening bloody leg she was able to wrap them both firmly around his torso and hooked her ankles behind him securely together as an anchor. She then slammed both her cupped palms abruptly against his ears, once, twice. 

The Mountain’s howls of rage matched her own. He grabbed her front and tried to pull her off, but she held fast and began to lean in to bite off his ear much like she had marked his brother by. 

Desperate, Gregor dug his fingers into her bloody leg wound, which made her cry out. It was enough to perforate through the blood lust and her body instinctively twisted, trying to get away from the pain. With her legs loosening their hold, he then easily yanked her free. 

Still grasping the lip of her armored front firmly in his large hand, he dramatically took a knee and slammed her body jarringly down onto the hard cement ground. 

While she lay momentarily stunned, he then straddled her form. When she began to weakly fight back, he pinned her thrashing body to the ground with his own.

He fumbled for the nearby discarded ornate dagger and then pressed it to her throat. His other hand clenched the hair at the top of her head, “Yield.” Gregor hotly ordered. He grinned that she was being forced to cede with an obvious gift from the young Lannister. He figured it was only fitting that she realized how they would eventually turn on her, much like the dagger that he now held to her throat.

She yelled something unintelligible and he knocked her head hard against the cement dazing her enough to snap her out of her rage.

“Yield.” He growled out again.

Brienne would not capitulate with Jaime’s gift at her throat. Hell she wouldn’t do it even without it pressed against her veins. She groggily tried to shake her head ‘no’, but he held her hair tight. Becoming more aware, she then attempted to buck him off, but he outweighed her considerably.

Smirking at her fire, he rapped the back of her head into the cement ground severe enough to render her unconscious. Standing, he then wiped the blood away from his eyes. Nonchalantly he tossed the dagger onto the ground as if it was trash.

Briefly his gaze rested on Cersei’s smug features and then he focused on the young King’s concerned ones. 

“She said she yielded. There is an old provision in the Trial by Combat rules that allows verbal pledges to be honored if the person yields. By her own admission, she has stated that she will only marry the one who can best her in combat. I have done so, and I am now claiming her as my bride.” Gregor proudly rumbled out to the stunned audience before him.

“I-I don’t…” Tommen began.

“My King, I have a witness to her vow.”

Lord Baelish stood up and lightly bowed to the King. “It is true. On numerous occasions, the Lady Brienne has said so. I am sure her father would agree.”

Selwyn loudly grumbled something under his breath. His glare of disdain clued all that the claim was true.

“And I am sure Ser Jaime knows as well.”

Jaime also refused to say anything, his gaze now worriedly resting on the unconscious bleeding woman at the Mountains feet.

King Tommen glanced to his mother for guidance, who then surreptitiously nodded in unspoken agreement. His grandfather grimaced, but remained silent. With a regal motion, the young King nodded, “Acceptable.”

Snapping out of it, Jaime yelled out lurching to his feet, “I did not hear her say yield!” But already the Mountain had flung her limp form over his shoulder and was striding away.

As he watched his wench disappear into the shadows, Jaime was held back by the guards. Shrugging off their hold, he then sat down hard. How could any of this be? 

With a frown, Jaime recalled that during the fight, the Mountain seemed more intent on exhausting Brienne than killing her. He never once returned any of the punches that she had laid onto him. 

Jaime then wondered how Clegane would have known about this Trial loophole. Hell, Jaime was surprised that the big ape could even string such a large legal stature out without any errors.

The young Lannister then noticed his smug sister conferring with equally self-satisfied Littlefinger. The pleased expressions on their features belayed who had helped Gregor out. He nearly slammed his stump into the nearby wall.

Brienne’s father was beside himself in worry. Jaime placed his good hand on Selwyn’s shoulder. “I will help her, my Lord. You have my vow.” The father blindly nodded, but already knew that his daughter had been lost to him once more due to court intrigue.

*

Unsurprisingly, Brienne woke up with a splitting headache. As she automatically moved her hands to check the back of her head, she realized her wrists were secured in the same shackles she had worn in the dungeon. She was also now wearing a long shift but other than her small clothes underneath, nothing else.

Brienne frowned taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. She groggily realized that she was in someone’s bed chambers on said bed. She rolled out of bed and struggled to her feet. Her wounded leg nearly gave out on her and she hissed from the pain.   
Clumsily she rotated around to touch her now bandaged thigh which made her sore shoulder throb in agony. 

With a grimace, she then limped to the door but found it frustratingly locked. Swaying, she forced herself to concentrate. Last she remembered she and the Mountain were fighting…

The sound of the lock being turned had her staggering to the nearest object that she could use as a weapon. It was a chair, but unfortunately everything seemed too heavy to lift now. 

Then Clegane stormed into the room with a bowl of steaming stew. 

Blurrily she stared at him, her fear beginning to overcome the malaise she felt, “The Mountain?”

“It is Ser Gregor Clegane to you.” He rumbled out chastising her.

She quickly shook off her anxiety and demanded out, “What is going on? Why am I here?”

Ignoring her bluster, he placed the bowl on the nearby table. “You should eat. We will be leaving soon.”

“What? Where?” Brienne began to struggle against her shackles.

“Back to my homeland for our wedding.” He said it so pleasantly she almost misunderstood him.

Panic suddenly superseded her confusion. After he turned away to go, she leapt onto his back. Her leg was too sore to wrap around him, so she instead looped the iron links around his thick neck. This caused the injury to her shoulder suddenly flared up and all she can do is weakly hang there, hoping her weight could strangle him.

Choking, Gregor suddenly hunched himself over and then reached behind his head. He grabbed the scruff of her shift and easily flipped her over onto his bed. When she tried to scurry away, he punched her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

Instinctively she went to curl in on herself but he straddled her form and wrenched the chain tightly above her head.

“I beat you. You are mine.” He growled possessively.

“No!” she choked out breathlessly still struggling. “I never yielded to you.”

He smirked, “Regardless the King has allowed it. There are certain terms in the Trial by Combat rules that accepts your own marriage ‘provision’ my Lady. I bested you in combat, so you are now mine.” As she gasped up at him, “And though I appreciate your spiritedness, you have lost.” He knew he would enjoy her struggles later. He was pleased that he had finally found a woman who nearly matched him in all the important ways.

Gregor noticed that her wide gaze had taken in her discarded armor that was piled in the corner. He shook the chain overhead which made her groan from the pain in her shoulder, “You will never see your Ser Jaime again. He will no longer be able to hide behind you.”

She glared up at him, trying her best not to let him see her fear. The Mountain could still read the despair in her gaze. “Don’t worry my Lady, unlike my brother I am a knight and have a code of honor. I will not touch you until we are married. And I assure you that once we are, I will still be good to you. Now eat. You’ll need your strength for the journey.”

He shambled off of her and then left the room, loudly slamming the door shut behind him.

Glumly she realized she would only have one chance at escape and that was when they gather the horses to leave King’s Landing. She hoped Jaime would be there to help rescue her. 

She reluctantly ate the watery meat stew. Though she was loathed to follow Clegane’s suggestion, she figured she would need the energy if she was going to successfully get away. Who knew when she would have the chance to eat again while on the run.

Brienne had finished about half of it when she began to feel peculiar. She belatedly realized that the stew was drugged. Just as the door swung open, she tried to lurch to her feet, but too late she instead collapsed onto the bed. As she drifted unconscious, she felt herself being tightly wrapped in blankets that would hide her from prying eyes and then she was carried from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 has been going through some tweaks here and there. It should be ready by Monday, but it might affect when the last two chapters come out. I will do my best to keep everything on schedule.
> 
> Thanks again for reading this!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh! I totally forgot to add Oberyn as an audience member during the Trial. Sorry! So many characters and plot points t is like trying to juggle cats sometimes – LOL!
> 
> Thanks to Jades for pointing that out. Appreciate it!

Knowing that Clegane was going to shortly drag his bride away with him, Jaime and Lord Selwyn had waited in the shadows of the stables ready to strike. They were very surprised when Gregor never showed up. They soon found out that the squire had left with his old cart even before the Trial had even begun. According to the stable master, the Mountain had also taken his horse out earlier and had it secreted away nearby. 

All the more this reaffirmed to Jaime that this had been planned for a while now.

Quickly they raced up the steps to the Mountain’s chambers. Both men then shoved open the heavy door.

Desolate at what was before him, Jaime stumbled to her discarded armor. More disheartened was that it appeared as if her armor had been cut and ripped off her body, her blood still drying on it. 

He clenched the dagger he had given to Brienne close to his side. When he first picked it up on off the arena’s cement ground, he felt dread. Now grasping it, gave him the strength to focus on freeing her.

He did not know what had happened to Oathkeeper. But it was just as well, it was hers anyway.

With a sigh, he knew it was too late to stop the Mountain from taking her away, but he could still prevent their wedding. He figured if his sister and Littlefinger could use ancient rules, then he should be able to use those same governances to save Brienne. 

Jaime’s main concern was what if scrounging threw all those books was a waste of time and there was nothing in them that could help. He internally argued with himself that he should just race off and grab her back and then they go on the run. 

But he already knew how his wench felt about that sort of a scenario. He noticed that Selwyn was picking at the ruined armor. 

“Come on, we have work to do.” Jaime’s loud voice seemed to break through the father’s anguish and they hastened from the room.

Cersei seemed to have sensed their desperation as she and her two personal guards met them as they exited. 

Jaime nearly shoved her aside, but the large guards with her palmed their swords pummels warningly. Cersei’s eyes gleamed in triumphant, “You know this is all her fault. She chose to come between us. She even used our own father by telling him of my pregnancy. This is what she deserves.”

“You are something else, Cersei.” Jaime shook his head and began to push by them.

She smiled taking his jeer as a complement, “And I know our child will bring us back together.”

Ignoring Selwyn’s tensing body, Jaime stopped and snorted, “Our…? That is amusing coming from you, Cersei. For some time now, I have heard rumors of all the men you had slept with while I was making my way back here from Harrenhal. I had ignored them then, but now I wonder.” As she began to puff up insulted, he continued, “Just how is our good cousin Lancel, sister? Glad you are still keeping it in the family.” At first he didn’t want believe all the gossip and innuendo. He was too loyal to sleep around and had assumed she also held that dignity.

With another shake of his head, Jaime started to move on.

Her low hostile voice stopped him once again, “It is yours, I know it.”

Smirking at her tone and posture, the young Lannister heir stated, “Well we will know in a few months now, won’t we? I’m banking on it looking nothing like me.”

She vowed. “Oh, you will soon change your tune, Jaime. But it is not too late to come with us to Highgarden. You might as well, you will never be seeing your wench again.”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” The guards quickly placed themselves between the twins.

“See you soon, brother.” Pleased with having the final word, Cersei then strode away.

Selwyn glared at him, so Jaime quickly addressed the Lord of Tarth, “I assure you that she is not with my child.” He sternly admonished out. It was bad enough that his wench would believe it, but now his father in law? He knew in his heart of hearts it was not his. The longer he was here, the more he heard of his sister’s dalliances, especially with Lancel. If that kid wasn’t born brown haired and brown eyed, he’d eat his sons Tommen’s cat!

Jaime thought further about this confrontation. Why was she hoping to goad him? What was Cersei’s endgame?

Then not surprisingly Lord Baelish then oozed out from the shadows after Cersei and her guards had disappeared around the corner.

“You should have listened to me, Kingslayer. She will never be the same again and it was all because of you.” Baelish’s sneer was its usual mocking line.

Frustrated, Jaime cocked his head to the side as Baelish began to study the tips of his fingers. The time seemed to be ticking away and the more they stood there, Brienne was getting further away and closer to her wedding day, “Spit it out already, Lord Littlefinger.”

His angry gaze flicked up from his meticulously clean fingernails. “I know of a way to free her from this. And you already know what I want.” His gaze now included Lord Selwyn’s angry form. “Surely you want your daughter to not come back a broken woman.”

Selwyn took a step forward, but Jaime’s stumped wrist was suddenly blocking his path.

“Thank you, Lord Baelish. You have been most insightful.” He nudged Selwyn along, “Come along… father.”

Jaime smirked as he ignored the startled expression from Selwyn. 

He then quickly led them to the White Sword Tower where all the old books were. By overplaying his hand, Baelish confirmed that there was something in the rules that would help free her. What else does that man have to barter with but knowledge?

Now all Jaime had to do was quickly find a means to void the caveat that made her marry the Mountain. This gave him the hope to tackle the large book before him. 

And this time he would be Brienne’s champion, no matter what. At least if he lost to the Mountain, she would not have to die. But then being married to Clegane would be a death sentence all in its own right.

*

The Maid of Tarth awoke to the swaying of movement, her side resting against wood. Regretfully she found herself in the back of a cart. Clegane’s old squire sat nearby, cautiously guarding her. 

Hearing her slight activity, the Mountain turned around from his perch on the buckboard of the cart. He tossed a filled water skin at her which she caught clumsily, her hands still shackled. “Drink. I will not let you get sick on our journey.” He snorted when he noticed that she still refused. So he grabbed it and took a deep pull from it. Swallowing, he then handed her back the container, “Now drink.”

She did so and the cool water was very refreshing. Eyeing the squire, she attempted to get more comfortable. 

Noticing her disquiet, Clegane politely patted the seat next to him. He knew that even though she was a lady, it would not stop her from sticking a knife in him once they were married. So some rules needed to be established. Surprisingly, he also wanted her respect or at least enough of it so that they could live together amicably. She was to be the mother of his children after all.

Brienne nodded and he helped her over to sit on the bench beside him. Since it was a sedate ride, he took precautions and tied a rope around her waist.

“That isn’t necessary.” She shakily insisted. Memories of when she had done the same thing to Jaime flitter about her head.

He stared at her, “On your honor do you promise not to try to run away?” She glanced to the side and he smirked. “That is why they stay on.” 

Going back to focus on the empty countryside road ahead of them, the Mountain side eyed her. Taking in her desolate gaze, he nodded to himself and began to rumble out, “Trust me, people of honor never last long when dealing with court intrigue. Tell me my Lady, how many wanted you dead? How many planned on using you for their own gain? Though it will be a simpler life with me, it will be safer.” 

Brienne felt a sense of emptiness. She was certain Jaime would have been able to look after her. Besides, soon they would have been safely absconded to Casterly Rock. But then who was she kidding, it probably would be just as tricky in their new home as it had been at King’s Landing.

Seeing that his words were having some impact, even minor, he continued. “Believe me, being on the Lannister’s leash, you are either killed or changed for the worst.” 

“I was never theirs.” She grounded out still defiant and he smiled pleased that the situation had not fully extinguished all her determination.

He then took in her vehemence and clarified, “I was once the same as you. The orders were at first small, acceptable to follow. Then overtime they became worse and you do not even realize it until it is too late and you are now tied to your masters. Two years ago, Lord Tywin ordered me to brutally massacre all those people in that village in Riverlands.” Noting that her frown had softened, “It is best that I got you away from such people. Eventually they would have beaten you.”

“Never. I am a fighter, not some lap dog.” 

“Yes, you are quite the soldier.” He said with pride, “And our children will be great warriors as well. We will train them together.”   
Ever since their wedding had been ordered, she had allowed the fantasy of her and Jaime doing the same thing for their own.  
She sadly glanced away.

Misreading her sorrow, Gregor continued, “You can’t stay single forever. You are the last of the Tarth heirs as am I of the Clegane.” Unspoken she could practically hear the growl of accusation, “You saw to that”. 

He still persisted in hopes of winning her over, “Though we are weak apart, with our houses combined we will be strong. And I will not be an awful husband to you. Besides, most of the time I will be away running errands for the Lannister’s.” He dramatically spat off of the cart. “Be grateful I am taking you away from them. You are too honorable to be beholden to them.”   
Brienne sharply glared at him.

“Honor.” She practically grounded out, “Oberyn told me what you did to his sister.”

He shrugged, “Contrary to belief, Dornish women are more delicate than they appear to be.” Gregor now leered at her, “I find I need a stronger woman to share my bed.” 

Grimacing she glanced away and he chortled. “True, there is no love between us, but I respect you.” He rubbed the stitched area above his eye. “You got a hard head, Brienne of Tarth. And you are a tough fighter.” 

He then scratched at his throat. It had some bruising from the chain links that had been swung around it. “And I forgive you for trying to choke me. You were disorientated and your first natural instinct was to attack. But do not think I will allow that to ever happen again.” His hard stare now bored holes into hers. “There are worse things than death and I can make your life unbearable.” To prove his point he reached over and squeezed her bad shoulder. 

Angry, Brienne tried to shrug out of his grip, but that only made him tighten it harder. Still she stubbornly would not yield, so he has no choice but to lessen his hold on her or cause permanent damage to the still healing shoulder. Internally he vowed that she would willingly give up to him.

After releasing her throbbing shoulder, he lightly patted it which made her hiss. “I know it will take time, but I think we are good for each other. And while I am away, you can look after my lands and protect our children. Who knows, maybe after you birth a few, you can join me on campaigns.”

Tiredly she stated, “Then why did you destroy my armor?”

“All your ties to the Lannister’s are gone now. When needed, I will have a new set commissioned for you.” Deciding she needed time to think, he left her to her own tumultuous thoughts in silence. Besides, he had his own ideas to filter through about regarding his upcoming plans.

Drained, Brienne crawled to the back of the cart and now she gazed about her surroundings miserably. 

*

That night as they camped, Clegane rumbled out to her, “We will be home in two days, my Lady.” She wearily nodded. At least then she could get out of these damn shackles. Her wrists felt worn threw.

More demeaning was that Gregor never let her out of his sight, his meaty hand always seemed to be holding her leash.

*

The next morning as they journeyed closer to his lands, the Mountain perked up. He began to point out various landmarks to her and she resignedly took it all in. Nothing mattered anymore anyway. It was obvious that Jaime would not be coming to rescue her this time and she might as well try to find some peace in her new situation. At least he had taken that damn leash off of her!

As it was getting dark, the Mountain took them to an Inn just off the road. He had promised her that tomorrow she would fall in love with his lands.

Parking the cart, he motioned his squire to take care of it and then he escorted her into the pleasant establishment.

After requesting a single room, they sat in the nearly deserted inn’s lower chamber awaiting food. When the nourishment arrived, it was the usual fare of meat and starch, with a hearty helping of mead on the side.

As they quietly ate, they purposely ignored the four loud men who sat at another nearby table. They were big men and Brienne wondered if this area bred such large warriors for a reason. The men continued to uproariously laugh as they drank copious amounts of mead. Every now and then, they would glance over at the disheveled road weary pair and hoot louder.

Clegane disregarded their obnoxious presence with disdain and instead focused on her quiet meek form. Frowning he asked, “Who was the one who doused your fire?” He tilted his head in the drunkard’s direction, “Why do you no longer champion yourself? This has been going on long before the Lannister’s got to you. Was it your father?” 

“If my father was the reason, do you think I still would have been able to become a warrior?” she spat out making him pleased that there was still some fire within her. She would need it to be his wife. He also definitely wanted her to freely yield to him, it was almost becoming an obsession. 

He still had to know and genuinely curious he inquired, “Then why do you put up with it? Someone with your abilities could easily kill them all.”

It was her turn to grumble out an answer that she hoped would stop this interrogation so she could eat in relative peace, “The curse of the fairer sex, I suppose.” Honestly she just did not care anymore, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

Gregor barked out a sharp laugh that once again drew attention to them. The four men finished drinking and sauntered over to them. Brienne once again found her cold food to be very interesting.

The largest of them mocked out, “Hello Clegane. Surprised you are heading home. Shouldn’t you be tending to your Master’s wishes?”

Brienne noticed that the Mountain continued to chew his food slowly, as if savoring it.

“And who is this you have with you. A man dressed in women’s clothing?” The smallest of the men turned his focus on Brienne.

“Why it is a woman?” The largest chortled out.

Noticing her shackles, another queried, “What is this one’s crime, is there a law against being ugly?”

The smallest yet again had to get in a word, “Come now, haven’t you heard, he has brought her here for marriage.”

“No.” One grinned out. The others followed suit, but they certainly were not of pleasant smiles.

“Yes. Clegane your bird arrived the other day and your home is busily preparing a big celebration for the intended. We did not expect that you would have to shackle her before the wedding night! By the looks of her, she should be more than willing to marry you.” They all laughed uproariously.

She saw Gregor tense. Tired of their jeers she began to get up to leave, but his meaty hand rested on her sore shoulder and easily pushed her back down. “Eat, it is good.”

He had finished his own meal, but the drunken men still would not leave, “Your children will be quite an eyesore, Gregor. They will be as large and as stupid looking as you two are.” The big men all laughed at that jest.

That seemed to be the breaking point, “I will not sully this Inn with your blood, outside. Now.”

Brienne rested her large hand over his bigger one, “Please don’t, it isn’t important.”

“It is not just for your honor, my Lady.” He then pulled her to her feet and practically dragged her toward the door with him. Once outside, he shoved her over to stand near the doorway so she could watch.

“A Lady you say? Not when we are done with her.” One chuckled out and leered a predatory smile at her, which made her internally cringe. But she was still a warrior and stared at him with a quiet fury.

Even before Clegane was ready, the smallest man charged at his back, sword arcing overhead. The battle tested Mountain sensed his approach and easily side stepped the blade that was coming down towards his head. He then grabbed the man’s arm as it continued to swing downwards and used the momentum to maneuver the blade around to shove it into the drunk’s belly.

Another man came at him but this time the Mountain was able to pull out his own sword. His assailant’s teeth rattled when their blows connected and then Clegane knocked them out of his mouth with the pummel of his sword. Ignoring the man’s muffled shrieks of pain, Gregor then turned and blocked a blow that would have cleaved him in half. His last two opponents were much larger than the others, at least the size of Brienne.

Even though she disliked the man, he was still an amazing fighter. She wondered just how easy he had been on her so not to damage his future bride. 

While he was still engaged, the last one was sneaking up on the Mountain’s blindside. The odds were not fair and even a man like Gregor deserved not to be stabbed in the back. Besides, she really hated cowards, especially those with no honor. Four against one was bad enough…

Regardless these brutes stated they would do worse to her than Clegane had promised of himself. Know your enemy and all that, she reasoned to herself. But she feared she could not do much to help, her shoulder seemed weaker than ever. 

With the man’s back was to her, Brienne lunged toward the few weapons holstered around the man’s belt. She was able to pull free the short sword he had tucked away. A successful move she remembered a shackled Jaime also doing to her.

The belligerent large man spun around and laughed at the beleaguered chained woman in front of him. “What are you playing at girl?”

“Leave now…” she threatened as she tried to stretch out her shackled arms, the sword clenched between her cupped hands. 

“And miss all the fun. When we are done with him, you are next girly.” His eyes raked over her abused body and he sneered. “Though I think I will first find a sack for you to wear over your head.”

He swung a teasing blow that even in her current state she could easily block. The brute then tested her strength, which was obviously waning. Her left shoulder already ached after the next hit and she did her best to not further engage in his abusing hacks. Unfortunately due to the complication of her wounded thigh, her side step was an ungainly imbalance that gave her little choice but to battle him head on.

After her next jarring intercept, she realized that not only had Clegane finished off his opponent, he had also killed the whimpering bastard whose teeth he had busted out.

She expected his help, but he seemed more intent on cleaning his sword off on the dead man’s tunic. As she parried another thrust, Brienne fleetingly wondered why he was doing this. ‘Was this to teach her some lesson?’ But she thought he needed her alive? She figured he must have more confidence in her current abilities than she did.

“Hurry up, girl.” Gregor grounded out at her. 

His tone was so similar to his brother’s she momentarily faltered. Just as her opponent’s blade came down, she spun on her good leg to the inside, and his sword just whistled past her head.

She then ducked the drunkards next swing, a full overhead arc, and when she sprung forward (well more honestly like teetered) she slashed her short sword across his throat.

Dispassionately she felt his blood spray onto her face and clothing. As he sank to his knees, she chucked the blade against the dying body which knocked him over onto the ground.

Gregor accessed his bride and was pleased. This also reminded him why it was smart to keep her restrained and close. Even wounded and shackled, she was still formidable. Quickly he then scavenged off of the dead bodies and confiscated any earnings he found.

He gruffly stated, “Already I can tell that our marriage will be strong. Come, my Lady.” He practically dragged her back into the Inn. Normally she would feel very invigorated after this sort of fight, but now she just dreaded the after math.

As he quickly assisted her upstairs, he rumbled something to the Innkeeper about more wine and also water for cleaning.  
When they entered the cozy room it was just as she feared, there was only a large single bed. He sat her stiff form onto it and took off her boots. “I need a bath.” She stated trying to prolong the inevitable. The sticky blood was already drying on her skin.

“Once we reach the safety of my lands you can have as many baths as you want.”

After the water and wine were quickly delivered, he then gently cleaned off her bloodied features and hands. Her shift would have to stay as it was, he had not brought any spares. She then declined the wine he offered her. Shrugging, he greedily drank both of them.

She nearly recoiled as he took off his shirt. His muscular bare chest was crisscrossed with many scars from battles. He noticed her worry, “My Lady, I told you I am a gentleman.” He grumbled out insulted. Tiredly she nodded and lied down on the semi-cushy bed.

Gregor then situated himself behind her on the bed. Brienne flinched when he drew her in to spoon her. He then laid his huge arm over her waist and one of his legs pushed between hers to keep the non-wounded one trapped. “Now go to sleep.”

Exhausted as she was, she was too wound up to do so.

*  
The next morning she grumpily awoke as his large frame left the bed.

Cheerfully he ordered, “Come, I want to get home this afternoon.” He then practically yanked her from the warm bed and pulled her down the stairs.

She grumbled out, “For this marriage to work, you have to stop dragging me everywhere.”

“My Lady, once we are home, you can plant your feet as firmly as you please.” He gruffly replied.

At breakfast, they silently ate warm porridge and bits of leftover meat. For their hospitability, Gregor gave the Innkeeper the majority of the money he had scavenged off of the bodies from yesterday.

His squire then met them outside with the cart. The Mountain quickly helped her into the back and they once again set off towards his home lands.

In a few hours the scenery changed to a more rocky terrain. In the distance the snowcapped mountains reflected the late morning light. It truly was lovely. He noticed her stare of appreciation and pleased he stated, “I told you it was beautiful. These are my lands.”

Just as they began to cross over the last slight crest to enter the majestic valley, a small group of mounted Kingsguard raced up to them. They quickly surrounded the cart which forced the Mountain to halt all progress. Brienne recognized the guards as being the ones from the Welcome Home table where they had once so easily accepted her. Now none of them would look her in the eye.

A sullen Jaime led the group and he refused to acknowledge Brienne. Instead he addressed Ser Gregor, his voice stern as he ordered out, “You are ordered back to King’s Landing.” 

Ignoring the young Lannister bluster, the Mountain stared solemnly at his homelands, “Soon.”

Jaime practically spat out, “Now. You have to do as you are told. And don’t worry, you are going to get your wish and fight me.”

On the Mountain’s confused frown, “We reread the original rules for the Trial of Combat. Turns out a woman, even a non-knight cannot champion themselves when accused of murdering a noble.” In recalling how they had found this among all the codicils, Jaime was now all fierce lion, “You all were so busy with your own quick schemes that you failed to finish reading all the fine print. Now there must be a new trial.”

Though she was beside herself that her Jaime had come for her, this was far too dangerous. It was the bear pit all over again, except this time there would be no crossbow bolts to keep the beast at bay to free her.

“No Jaime.” Brienne started to move toward him, but she stopped when his cold green eyes turned on her imploring blue ones.

“It is not only your honor I am fighting for, wench.” He then turned his attention back to Clegane, “And she is to stay on neutral ground once we arrive back at the Keep.” 

Irritated the Mountain had no choice and he turned his cart around. They then all began to head back to King’s Landing.

On the journey back, Gregor grounded his teeth at the delay. But then the thought of finally being able to embarrass this thorn in his side soon made Clegane happy. Now it was no longer just about his marriage, it was also of doling out the hurt. He had always wondered if the Kingslayer could best him before he had lost his hand. Now he knew that there was no way he could be beaten. Regardless, he understood that Lord Tywin would still plead for his son not to be killed. Though fulfilling that order would make his victory tainted, it would be still satisfying to humiliate the young Lord who seemed to get everything his way.

For the next two days, they rode back to King’s Landing with hardly any breaks. And never once did Jaime try to talk with Brienne. Anytime he caught her gaze, he would then quickly glance away. He knew she would try to talk him out of it and the more she attempted to get his attention, the angrier he got. Finally they reached King’s Landing and by then he would not even glimpse in her general direction.

Once they reach the stables at the Keep, the Lady Olenna and Margery are waiting for them. The older woman took one look at the beleaguered Brienne and demanded that she be taken to the armory immediately to have her shackles removed.

As Brienne was led off by the nattering and concerned Tyrell’s, a group of four soldiers then follow close to make sure she did not try to escape. She once again attempted to get Jaime’s notice, but he had already stormed off.

Hours later and now all cleaned up, the young woman now waited under guard in the Maidenvault. After trying to gleam whatever information she could from the Thorn and Margery, they then left the fretting woman alone. They had told her what they did know about the rules and confirmed that the fight for her hand would be for tomorrow morning.

Tiredly Brienne stood and stared out of the window in worried contemplation. Finally she received her first visitor. Her father took in her sunken eyes and exhausted pose and hugged her tightly.

“Please tell me Jaime won’t be fighting for me?” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

Lord Selwyn glanced away refusing to answer her. Ever since her brother’s death, she had to be so strong. He slowly pushed her back so he can gauge her reaction, “He plans to.”

Stubbornly she pulled away from him and limped to stand once again in front of the window, “I refuse him to fight for me. I will go willingly with the Mountain.”

He sighed in frustration. She had never understood that Knighthood was more than just honor and surviving to live for another battle. He tried to make his stern voice less dismissive in tone, “It is his choice what he wants to fight.” 

Brienne sputtered out in anger, “I was told I have a choice in who my champion can be.” She refused to accept that she once again had no say in her life. 

Lord Selwyn grabbed her arms and tried not to shake her too forcefully, “No one else will fight the Mountain for you. Damn your honor, daughter. Do you really want that brute as your husband?” But already he could tell that her thoughts were elsewhere.

She would never have asked anyone to champion her, but for Jaime… As a plan began to form, she stumbled to the table. 

Grabbing a quill and some paper, she wrote a very brief message on it and then handed it to him, “Father, I need you to deliver this to someone for me.” 

Frowning, he opened the missive and read her delicate writing, “I never yielded. – B”

The young Maid remembered one who hated the Mountain more than anyone. He had even admitted that he saw similarities in her and his sister so maybe she could get him to fight for Jaime. She realized that the young Lannister would be upset, but at least this way he would live.

Her smile was one of trust so her father nodded in acceptance when she told him who it was to go to.

*

Lord Tywin had not realized what his son was up to until Jaime had led the Mountain back to King’s Landing with the Maid of Tarth in tow. When the Hand heard the full story on how Jaime had found a loophole in the original rules that would enable him to challenge Ser Gregor to a duel, Tywin knew he had to visit the large man and order him to withdraw from this bout.   
Sometimes he cursed his son’s cleverness.

Upon being granted entrance, Tywin noticed that the stoic Mountain diligently sat sharpening his favorite blade. The behemoth of metal made the Lord Hand try to calm the loud gulp that involuntarily came from his throat. He knew he had to quickly change tactics, “Ser Gregor, I ask that you do not kill my son.”

“No?” The Mountain sneered out, still not addressing the Lord Hand in the eye. He was tired of the Lannister’s always getting what they wanted. Cersei seemed to be the only one who did not openly mock him. And she was the one who had showed him the old Trial by Combat laws and how to use them so that for once he would get what he wanted. 

Just a few moments ago she had gotten word to him on how to make this newest Combat challenge cement his procurement of the Maid and for her, her brother. All she had requested in return was for Jaime to be physically broken, but kept alive. Cersei figured she would take her brother with her to Highgarden and nurse him back to health. By the time he recovered he would have forgotten all about his love sick beast.

Tywin scowled attempting to gauge just what Ser Gregor was after. “No, do not kill him.” he said through gritted teeth.

Gregor shrugged. “Fine, I will not kill Ser Jaime.” There was still a derisive threat in his tone and Tywin worried that something bad might befall his eldest son and heir, “But I still get the Lady Brienne and all her estates. I won her fair and square.”   
According to Cersei it was his right to keep her as his bride. 

“No.” And though it made the Lord Hand internally curse to offer it, he had no choice if he wanted to keep Jaime from trying anything else so foolish. “You will come to a draw and she will be free to go with Jaime. In return, you will be well compensated in coin and titles of your own.”

Clegane snorted. He knew he would not be given a very large estate, certainly not island size like Tarth. Besides, “I want heirs,” Gregor rumbled out, “and I want them with her. I want her to raise them.”

Adamant, the older Lannister pushed forward, “I can arrange another for you, a highborn woman more suited for your needs.”

Once again the Lannister’s believed they held all of the power and now just for spite Gregor vowed never to give in, “No, I won her and she is mine.” Gleeful he realized that for once he was finally going to beat them at their own game.

“I am ordering you….” Lord Tywin began to bark out but Gregor rose to his feet and towered before the old man, glowering down at him.

“No, this is my right. I know you cannot order me to do as you will in this situation.” Cersei was adamant about not to letting her father bully him with his bluster.

“You will rue the day…” The Hand was nearly beside himself and Gregor figured that it had been a long time since anyone had said ‘no’ to Lord Tywin Lannister.

“Maybe, maybe not. But maybe this will finally be my freedom from your leash!” The rumble of pleasure in his baritone voice made Tywin blanch and further worry about his son’s health. He now knew he had to somehow convince Brienne to go with the Mountain, or his son would likely perish.

*

Late in the day, it was Lord Tywin that visited the Maid of Tarth, not his son. Upon seeing him stride purposely into the room, she grasped the written reply to her request tightly in hand. As he positioned himself in a place to appear powerful, she did the same by sitting in the chair across from him as regally as possible. If she was going to pull this off, it was time they understand that she wasn’t some simple girl. She felt Jaime would approve of her demeanor.

Tywin raised his eyebrow at her posture, but then got right to the specifics. He declared, “Please accept the Mountain as your husband and go.” Then almost pleading he added, “It is the only way to save my son.”

She leaned forward and nearly slammed her fist in the table, “After all this time, you think I would risk your son’s life?” Brienne allowed herself to sound angry.

He slumped dejectedly in his seat, “Forgive me my Lady, but it would be understandable to seek any means of freedom, no matter how slim.”

Calming herself, she bobbed her head in concession, “I respect Ser Jaime, but I know he would never win against the Mountain.” A bleak Tywin nodded in agreement.

Seeing the father so disheartened made her realize something, “I take it you could not convince Clegane to not hurt your son?”  
“Ser Gregor can get rather carried away when he fights.” She was puzzled by his dark stare at her and then smirked out a grin, She seemed to have that reputation now for herself. But then in Gregor’s case it was worse, he really was upset when it came to dealing with the Lannister’s. 

Tywin’s voice echoed tiredly in the room, “I am sorry to risk your honor my Lady, but Jaime is my son and heir.” He now seemed so much older than how he usually presented himself.

Calmly she replied, “Even though it has to be retried, I can still choose my champion.”

He frowned. Last he heard, no else wanted to do this. “But Jaime is your champion.”

She shared a wistful smile with him. “True.” She then became serious, “But I can still choose another.”

“There is someone else?” Intrigued his gaze locked on hers.

She curtly nodded, “There is, but I want something in return.”

He snorted. Why was he surprised? Despondent, he motioned for her to continue.

Brienne studied his slacked pose and took a deep mental inhale. She had liked to think she had learned a few things from Jaime in regards to political machinations in her short time here, but still she steeled herself. He was the Hand of the King after all and not some country bumpkin. 

Making sure not to exhibit her normal hesitancy when it came to court intrigue she made her voice unwavering as she declared, “I have a plan.” She was heartened when her words made the recalcitrant Tywin perk up, “But I will need your help in convincing your son to forgive me. I would try to reassure him, but he has yet to come visit me.” He heard the bitterness in her tone and tried to hide his relieved smile. “No, do not feel too pleased, I have conditions.” 

Recognizing the tone of bartering, Tywin sat up straighter in his chair.

“First you will have to give the news to your son that I refuse him as my champion.” She knew if she survived this, there was a chance that Jaime might want nothing to do with her ever again. “If my plan works I am worried he will be too upset to want to marry me.”

“Fear not, my Lady. I will convince him that you two are meant to be together.”

She nodded relieved. “If my proposal succeeds and he is still willing, then Jaime and I will marry on our own terms. No more manipulating us.” She stared him right in the eye.

“Oh?” he smirked ready to conquer her easily at this verbal chess game. At least this one he could control, unlike that retched brute, Clegane. His grin would have been mocking if his son’s life had not been on the line. “Not too long for marriage, I hope.”

Brienne ignored his snide reply, “And I also do not want a huge wedding, just a small group of family and friends.”

Nodding, Tywin intoned deeply, “Agreed, and what of giving me grandchildren?”

She dramatically gestured and her arms swung wide, “We will give you an entire liter. And with the possibility of twins running in the family, it shouldn’t take long.” She mumbled the last part under her breath.

The Lord Hand smiled pleased. So far it did not sound so terrible which caused him to frown in concern, “What else?” 

“How would you like your son to rule the North?” Her innocent question was met with a snort.

“He already has Casterly Rock.”

“No, your other son, Tyrion.” She said it so matter-of-factly, he at first thought she was kidding. 

He stared at her as thoughts race through his mind. Finally he settled on the truth, “You are going to kill Stannis.”

Brienne nodded pleased.

“This is one of your old pledges?” His finger began to lightly rub along the table top in an invisible pattern.

“Yes, the last one and then my conscious will be free to love your son and produce heirs.”

Tywin pursed his lips, “I see. Hum, he is a mutual enemy and I know he is going to attack Winterfell eventually.”

“It would be easier if I killed Stannis now while he is vulnerable up at the Great Wall. And once I do, Stannis’ troops will be in disarray. A successor would need to step up and lead them on an attack against Winterfell. Due to his marriage to Sansa, Tyrion could legitimately be that leader.” Hell, it wouldn’t be too hard to convince those soldiers to attack Winterfell. Most already wanted to kill Bolton for his betrayal of Robb and Catelyn Stark. 

For now she would let Lord Tywin believe her role was only to kill Stannis. To her she could then finish off two obligations at once. Kill the man who murdered her King and then eventually put Sansa in the safest place possible, away from here, ruling the North with an army at her front. 

Brienne had thought long on this when Jaime first brought news that his brother was now on good terms with Stannis and his Commanders. With just the right push, she was sure he would willingly lead Baratheon’s troops to rally and then reclaim the Starks ancestral home. 

As he mulled it over, she added, “But I will need Jaime’s help to succeed. Only he can convince his brother to lead Stannis’ soldiers to overrun Winterfell.” And of course encourage Tyrion to then let his wife take her rightful place in ruling it. Now for the carrot to get the Lord Hand to agree, “That way you get the North and the Middle of Westeros.”

“What no quest for the South?” He chided out, slightly peevish. But already he was thinking about all the possibilities.  
“Maybe for our honeymoon.” She shot back at him.

“Though it is an interesting plan, my Lady, it would never work. Unlike Jaime, my youngest son is a coward. Besides, I already have an ally ruling Winterfell that I do not wish him to be replaced.”

She was shocked that he just admitted to her his hand in aligning with Roose Bolton in Robb Stark’s betrayal and murder.

As he gauged her reaction, he stated, “No, we will let Bolton continue to be the Warden of the North. But Tyrion can have the Castle Black. He is Night Watch now anyway, so he cannot go against his vows.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to have the legitimate ruler at Winterfell. It is the Starks ancestral home. And Bolton has already turned once, what makes you so sure he won’t do so again.”

Tywin thought a moment, “No, I like my idea better. Kill Stannis at the Great Wall, thus sending his soldiers into disarray. And if you are able, of putting Tyrion in charge of Castle Black.”

Still she tried, “But…” 

Tywin’s voice became hard, the decision had been made, “Tyrion does not deserve Winterfell. Besides, Sansa could then come forward and reclaim it. No, but you can still kill your Kinslayer.” His tone indicated that this discussion was closed.

Internally she cursed. So much for all her well thought out plans. With a dip of her head, she conceded. She would just have to figure something else out later. “Thank you, my Lord Hand. I will still need Jaime’s help though.” She blurted out desperate.

“Of course, would not want to keep you two separated.” Contemplating the situation, he then rubbed his chin, “This plan of yours is very dangerous though. Do you swear to protect my son, Jaime?” 

It was difficult with her still bandaged thigh, but she rose and then dropped to one knee. She made sure to regaling bow her head to make it official, “With all my heart, I pledge so.” 

“Young lady, you do that far too easily.” Tywin grimly nodded down at her. “Alright, I will give you 6 months to kill Stannis and for you to start having children.” He dramatically announced.

“Hrumph!” she sputtered out in protest. She slowly stood and towered over him, making his neck crick just to glance up at her.

Lord Tywin reluctantly gave in, “Alright, but right after you finished, I want heirs.”

“I swear.” She nodded in acceptance.

“Now before I agree, I want to know what your plan is.” He was now worried that she had been all bluster with no follow through.

She showed him the scrawled response. He read the elegant writing and smirked at the note. “For my sister’s honor, I will fight for you – O” 

It took only a moment for him to realize who the ‘O’ belonged to. He was stunned when the implications became focused. Then Tywin grinned pleased at how she worked out all the angles, “My Lady, we will make a Lannister out of you yet.” And then he wondered if he might have been played as well. She appeared smarter than she looked and internally he was pleased that his son would not be marrying some idiot. 

Brienne tried unsuccessfully to hide her grimace at his comment and he chortled when he caught the brief disdain in her features.

Tywin hoped for a different outcome for tomorrow, but he still had to ask, “Though I am loathed to say, what if Oberyn fails?”

She sadly dipped her head in acknowledgement of his words, but then was all business, “I was told that Gregor can only be challenged once regarding this situation. If Oberyn fails, I will go willingly with the Mountain.”

Nodding solemnly in understanding, Tywin’s voice was heartfelt, “My Lady, I hope your champion prevails.” Regardless of how it would affect his power structure, he truly hoped Oberyn did survive for her. She would be a good addition to the family. But then if Oberyn died, that incessant thorn from the South would stop poking into his side. Grudgingly it was a win-win for him.

“My Lady, I will get my son to forgive you for taking this chance away from him. If the Dorne Prince wins, I will help you with your pledge to kill Stannis.” He dared not ask the Mountain to be lenient now, which meant that Oberyn was as good as dead, but at least his son would live.

Her large shoulders sagged a bit in relief. Deciding to push her luck she asked, “Oh, and I have another wish but that will have to wait. But then if I leave with Gregor, it will not matter.”

Tywin thought a moment. “If it is not to be the next Hand, I will accept your future caveat.”

Snorting she made a face, “No, I am not one who enjoys such power.”

Brienne held out her big hand and as Tywin took it, “And that is why I know you will be a most welcome member to our family, my Lady.” And their handshake is firm.

Now telling his son that he had been once again regulated to being an observer would not be easy. It would certainly be harder than convincing his son to still want to marry the Lady Brienne. But then if it was, maybe some threats of his own in regards to the Maid would help keep his sons interest in marrying her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Towards the end of the chapter, I changed a minor characters backstory to fit this. Sorry, but the mused demanded it]

She quickly scanned the crowd and Brienne was grateful to see the belligerent Jaime sitting in the audience with her father.   
Word had never gotten to her as to how upset he was that she had chosen another to fight for her and she feared he would not even show up today. 

Jaime had noticed her seated nearby with the two Kingsguards at sentry. When he spied her looking at him, he frowned and glanced away. Brienne internally groaned and hoped that if this worked, she would be able to persuade him that this was for the best. And if Oberyn lost, then it would not matter. She just wished she could have spoken to Jaime one last time, but he had refused to visit her.

She fleetingly wondered what his father said to counter any bad feelings of having another being her champion. The scowl on Jaime’s features stated it was probably not the usual kind words that a worried father would use.

Jaime then spotted a peeved Lord Baelish a few rows over. Surprised at Littlefinger’s demeanor, the young Lannister instinctively sought out to his twin. Even she did not appear as triumphant as she should be.

He wondered if he had possibly side stepped a trap. Maybe he should thank his wench after all. But honestly he would have preferred to at least have been a chance to try. If Oberyn failed he would not be able to save her ever again and Jaime did not know what he would do if she was gone. He really wished she hadn’t taken that choice away from him. 

Eventually the Mountain entered to the loud cheers, once again dressed in his thick armor. He could not wait to destroy his new target. Unlike Jaime, he knew Lord Tywin wouldn’t mind this pain in the ass dead. And being kept from getting home – and his wedding – did nothing to help sooth his already irritated bearing.

Noticing Brienne sitting to the side, Gregor pointedly stared at her as he approached. His eyes said it all as they raked across her body and his dangerous voice spoke low so that only she could hear it, “Not much longer, my Lady.” She glowered to hide her worry. This seemed to amuse him more and he cordially bowed to her.

Oberyn then sauntered out into the arena, light in armor and cup of wine in hand. His posturing could easily be construed as mocking. 

The majority not in the know gasped that he would be her champion.

Brienne herself could not believe that he barely wore anything in protection and he was drinking! Had she misjudged? Maybe Jaime should have been her defender, at least he would have been sober. She began to resign herself to the fact she was going home with Gregor.

She fleetingly wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so horrible to be married to the Mountain. But then Brienne could never stomach a man who would use the leash of his Master as an excuse to never accept accountability for his actions. There was no honor in that. Besides, he was a monster, through and through. Oberyn must win.

Now her champion bowed to the King and the others on the dais. His eyes seemed to linger longer on Lord Tywin’s.

Oberyn could not contain the sneer from his tone as he then addressed the crowd, “Since I do not believe in slavery, I will champion for the Lady Brienne of Tarth. But don’t worry, my Lady. I do not need court machinations to make you my willing bride. For once I win, you will be free to choose whomever you wish to be with.” 

The Mountain’s roar of anger caused the audience to squirm worriedly in their seats. 

Even though he enjoyed the rise he got out of Ser Gregor, Oberyn knew not to underestimate this large foe.

With silent urging from his grandfather, the King motioned Maester Pycelle forward who then wisely truncated the adjusted rules in regards to the new terms. He explained to simply change the threat of death for the loser to that of marriage. A few in the audience snickered and made some joke about there wasn’t much of a difference between those two categories.

Once the Maester was finished, the combatants then nodded that they were ready for the fight to begin.

The King had barely gestured when Clegane suddenly charged. Oberon then simply countered with the longer reach of his spear and kept him easily at bay. They at first exchanged minor attacks, each feeling the other one out. The acrobatic Oberyn was more fluid than Brienne had ever seen another fighter be and her hopes began to rise.

As the fighting became more brutal, so did the verbal taunting as Oberyn continuously berated the Mountain. It was the same three sentences uttered in increasing fury that soon had Gregor fighting harder than he ever had before. What he had originally thought would be an easy victory was fastly becoming a fight for survival.

“You raped my sister! You murdered my sister! You killed her children!” Oberyn was soon bellowing out his declaration as he more and more tore the larger man down with the sharp end of his spear.

Brienne wanted to yell out, “Just kill him already!” But Oberyn, like most predators, enjoyed playing with his food first. Besides, he wanted more than just to accuse, he also wanted a confession. His loud allegations continued to mock Clegane who had just taken another spear swipe, this time across his calf. 

Though he kept on shouting the same charges at the faltering Mountain, Oberyn’s focus soon shifted to Lord Tywin. As the mocking tease was now aimed at the true guilty party, Gregor’s words of being controlled by the Lannister’s worriedly came to Brienne’s mind. Did she really want to be linked to this family after all? She shook her head. It was too late now. She wanted Jaime so that meant she would just have to take her chances that she could keep ahead of any game that Lord Tywin sent their way.

Thankfully she would be marrying Jaime, not his father.

Another stab of the spear and as the Mountain went down she and others rose to their feet. Oberyn then slammed his spear point into Gregor’s chest and she momentarily felt pity for Clegane. At least this way he would no longer be bound to his Master.

As he collapsed backwards onto the hard ground, Brienne was amazed that the Mountain was still breathing. But then she realized that was what Oberyn wanted. Now he had to know who had ordered Clegane to carry out his family’s murder.

Gregor’s only answer was a gurgle as blood wept from the corners of his mouth.

When Oberyn turned to glower at the group on the dais and demand that the true guilty party come forward, Clegane’s arm suddenly swept the Prince’s feet out from under him. As the Mountain spat out his guilt, he leaned over Oberyn and grabbed his head between his two large palms. Everyone screamed in worry and fear. Which soon became gasps of fright and horror as with his last conscious breath, Gregor crushed Oberyn’s head in. He then collapsed unmoving next to the bloody remains.

The young Maid was as shocked as the others. Stunned she slowly shook her head in disbelief. Oberyn was such a charmer and so deceptively brave that he kind of reminded her of her Jaime. If only he had just killed Gregor. Sadly she realized that his obsession with vengeance superseded all rational thought. Brienne knew she could not become that way when dealing with Stannis and hoped Jaime would be there to help keep her grounded in reality.

Brienne and Jaime then sat down hard. Worriedly, their gaze met and both glumly stared at one another. What now? She wouldn’t be forced to marry a corpse, would she?

The silence was broken by the wailing of Oberyn’s paramour who was torn between gathering up the Prince’s crushed head or staying clear of the all the blood and gore. The retainers soon rushed out and began to clean up the scene. Then Qyburn shambled over and checked the bodies. He shook his head surreptitiously to Cersei, who glowered all the more.

Now all glanced in confusion to one another, unsure of what the truncated rules stated when such a tie occurred where both opponents died. 

The King glanced to his grandfather in confusion and Tywin slyly nodded that he would handle this.

Normally this would be taken care of in the throne room, but the Hand wanted this dealt with now. There were still many things left to be done. The people of Dorne lost their mighty warrior, thus weakening the South. It’s a win-win for him and he could barely contain his glee. Brienne will marry Jaime and he will get heirs, that the pain in the ass Oberyn was dead, and the Mountain, who had been getting too belligerent to follow his orders, was now out of the way.

After the first Trial, he had not wanted to bring attention to his ignorance in regards to those subrules. In his defense, it had been a long time since he had studied them. So after last night’s discussion with the Lady Brienne, he went and rectified the situation.

Now he side eyed his daughter. No one made him appear the fool.

“Would Lady Brienne of Tarth please step forward?” His strong voice echoed among the light murmurs of the audience.

As dignified as possible, Brienne limped over to stand in front of the dais. She stood straight and towered over the two that guarded her.

He held a slight smile for her benefit which caused her to slightly relax. “Since there is no precedence in the old rules regarding this type of stalemate, it falls onto the Lord Hand to make the final decision. Therefore I hereby decree that since neither champion has won, the marriage is now nullified between Ser Gregor Clegane and the Lady Brienne of Tarth. She is now free to do as she pleases.”

As she began to quietly thank him, Cersei nearly leapt out of her seat, “No, I protest. The Mountain was the last one alive, she has to…” Her voice faltered out when she realized she really had nothing to stand on legally.

The audience tittered at the ridiculousness of her objection.

Tywin was not surprised that Cersei would put up a fuss. He had been waiting to knock her down a peg, “But my daughter, neither stands before us the victor, therefore the Lady is free to go.”

Cersei demanded out, “Well then, what about her crime of killing Ser Renly? Those were never addressed.”

Lord Tywin stared at his new son in law, “Well, my young Lord?”

Wincing under the Hand’s glare, Loras Tyrell glanced downwards in embarrassment, “I resend my accusations. The Lady Brienne is innocent in killing Renly Baratheon.” All could tell that the chagrinned Ser Loras was embarrassed by his recent behavior. He had been berated by his grandmother and sister for the past week over this and during his more sober times, realized how childish he had acted. 

“Then let it be written that the Lady Brienne of Tarth is innocent of all crimes pertaining to the death of Renly Baratheon.” 

The King and all present nodded in agreement and Brienne let out a sigh of relief. She noticed that Jaime’s smile was aimed at her, but it was quickly extinguished when their eyes met. He then left from the arena rather quickly. Brienne sadly watched him go.

Suddenly her father was in front of her, practically hugging the breath from her lungs. Once he let her go, they shared a smile. She then walked over to Oberyn’s paramour and sadly gave her condolences. 

“Oberyn was a very brave and courageous man who died for my freedom. I will never forget his sacrifice for me. Please know that if you ever need anything, never hesitate to ask.”

“I wish for my beloved back, Lady Brienne.” She then stoically followed the shrouded figure of her dead Prince as he was carried from the arena. Sadly Brienne watched them go and she vowed that she would do whatever she could to help them whenever it was needed.

When she silently turned to leave, Lord Tywin approached her, “Now what was your caveat, my Lady?”

With a sigh, she began explain what she did not want after her wedding, more specifically the ‘bedding’. That was if Jaime still wanted to marry her, she worriedly thought.

*

Brienne knew where Jaime would go. It seemed as if they were both subconsciously drawn to the area where they felt the most at home.

Now it was her turn to find him beating on some straw stuffed dummy on the practice field. Though he did not verbally acknowledge her presence, both swords repeatedly bludgeoned the stagnant object more fiercely.

Figuring out the best way to get any acknowledgement from him, she chastised out, “You continue to slash to low, my Lord. Though you are getting very good with your weapons, you are not at the level you needed to be at to beat him.” 

He suddenly stopped and stood tall. Panting from his exertion he growled out, “Damn-it Brienne, you and my father have to let me fight my own battles.”

She grasped his right arm tightly which forced him to face her. She then placed his shrouded cuff over her heart. “I cannot speak for Lord Tywin, but I could not let you die for me. I love you. And now it seems as if the Seven are on our side and I am now free.” 

He still would not look at her. 

“I am sorry that I took that choice away from you Jaime, but you wouldn’t have beaten him.”

He glanced away in frustration but did not pull his wrist free which made her feel hopeful that maybe everything would be fine between them. “Brienne you had no right.” 

She tightened her grip on his arm. “Yes, I did. We look out for each. That’s what we do even when the other is too stubborn to accept it.”

He had a slight smile, “Coming from the most stubborn wench, herself.”

“You saved me from him as I later did for you. We both used our strengths to help one another. By using what we are good at we fill in the bits that we are missing. It is like two… er, different, but well, there’s a balance and… damn-it, you know what I mean!” she was pulling at her short hairs again in frustration.

He grinned as it stood on end, now even more resembling straw than ever before. His wench must be very nervous to have such sweaty palms. This flustered behavior around him was so unlike her…

Jaime softly stared in her eyes and finished for her. “We make each other whole.”

“Yes, exactly.” She exhaled pleased that he got what she was trying to say.

He then recalled the discussion at the picnic and smiled. They really did work well together and he liked how balanced she made him feel. And that was when he realized that he did not want to be without her ever again. But first a few issues had to be addressed.

Jaime then studied her from head to toe, “My Lady, do you recall our agreement on how we settle all disputes?”

She stared into his eyes as she tipped her head up in acknowledgement. By his look, Brienne knew this would be for more than just winning a disagreement. Oh, it would be for so much more.

Her eyes twinkled in mirth, “Swords then, Ser?”

He smirked and then tossed her the blade from his left hand. “Don’t tempt me wench.” Grinning his usual cocky smile as if all was forgiven, he bowed to her slightly. 

“Hah!” she barked out and she began to stretch out her shoulders. Her left one was still sore, but thankfully her thigh was feeling better and she was able to lunge with hardly a wince. Brienne would rather wait until she was at her best, but this vow had to be settled now.

Nodding that she was ready, she then suddenly swung, and he easily blocked her hit.

He then expertly countered with a flurry of blows that suddenly sent her reeling backwards in defense. Jaime was obviously not playing around and if she had any thoughts of just surrendering to him, this proved he did not wish an easy victory. Grimacing, she then began to fight back in earnest.

Jaime really had been getting better, and she realized that this might have also been his way to prove to her that he did not need her to look after him anymore. Then the urge of win overcame any more thoughts and she once again pressed her advantage. The dance had once again been reawakened between them.

So caught up, they barely acknowledged the crowd that had begun to grow nor the increasingly loud cheers that bounced around them. Bets were soon placed as to which one of them would win.

Then he feigned a high strike and as Brienne went to block the hit, he instead went low and the blades dull side mockingly smacked against her sore thigh. She grunted from the impact and knew that blow had left a mark. Grinning madly, she then charged toward him, violently slashing her sword back and forth. He quickly retreated and then parried at the last moment. Jaime knocked aside her final vicious swing which suddenly brought them pressing against each other.

“That all you have, wench?” He panted out as he shoved her heavier form back.

“I am just beginning, Ser!” She teasingly returned and got the response she wanted from Jaime when he growled low at her.

After a few more rounds of a punishing back and forth from both parties, Jaime decided it was time to end this.

With an odd stretch of his right shoulder, his sword cuff suddenly sprung two jagged hooks from the base. This time when Brienne swung downwards, he anticipated her blow and positioned his blade just right so that it caused her weapon to become caught up in the prongs.

Suddenly finding her blade twisted up in his, she then nearly found it ripped out of her grip when he dragged his sword downwards. At first she hadn’t noticed the little spines and she then grinned at his cleverness. Her pleased reaction caused his mirthful smile to beam boldly at her. 

As he cockily brought up his left hand to yank her down and away, she suddenly pulled herself close to him and tried to wrestle her blade free. This minimal distance proved troubling for Jaime, who was now being outmuscled by Brienne. She nearly ripped off his cuff in trying to free her blade, but the mechanism was too well secured to be removed.

He grimaced out to channel the pain, “Cheating, wench?”

“This is for my hand in marriage, is it not?” she gasped back as she let go of her blade and instead made a grab for his shirt to flip him over her shoulder.

“Yes, and so much more.” Jaime chuckled out. His sudden head butt made her stagger far enough back to give him room. Cheekily, he then flexed his right shoulder and the two little prongs disappeared back into the base. Grabbing her now freed tourney blade, he then focused in on his bride to be.

Being slightly dazed and unarmed Brienne had no choice but to back up as he stalked towards her. ‘He looks like a lion approaching his prey’, she fleetingly thought as she took in his dangerous regal strut. Even if he didn’t hold a threatening weapon, she still would have had to fight the urge to run.

Soon he had her retreating into a tall post, halting any escape. Her eyes flicked from his glinting green ones to the dull blade that was now pressed against her chest.

“Yield, my Lady.” His voice practically purred out.

Swallowing hard, her voice husked, “I yield, Ser Knight.”

Jaime’s grin was so intense, she feared glancing away. Then with a yell of happiness, he tossed the sword away, grabbed her in a tight hug and kissed her soundly. Breathlessly he stated, “You are now mine, wench.” 

She held him back, “As you are mine.” They share another passionate kiss which caused the audience to erupt with a roar of approval. 

Over the cacophony of cheers he grounded out, “Do not try to protect me ever again, I can take care of myself now.”

With those declared words, the young Lannister still seemed somewhat sullen. Figuring it was best to clear the air, Brienne easily grasped his chin so he would look at her, “Jaime, I will always protect you, for you are my mate, I love you and you mean everything to me.”

He smiled tiredly at her and tucked a strand of straw colored hair behind her ear. “And I love you, my wench.”

With a chuckle she lightly hit him on the shoulder and with the sound of amusement in her tone, she affectionately said, “Idiot.”   
Boldly she then stated, “Besides now that we are to be married, your problems will become mine and vice-versa.” 

For a moment he stared at her hand clasping his stump, then focused on her eyes, “Oh, you will finally allow me to help you?”

Shyly she glanced downwards. “I have never had a champion until you, Jaime. It was always difficult for me to trust the help of others, but yes, my worries are yours as well.”

With his cuffed stump, he forced her to look up at him. “So you will confide in me? Always?” 

The Maid peered into his serious emerald colored eyes and grudgingly nodded. “And I also want to thank you for coming for me.”

“I will every time, wench.” He then laughed when he realized what he had just said. She chuckled as well and then all cheered as they once again deeply kissed.

They now just noticed that the crowd had moved forward to congratulate them. It seemed as if everyone had anticipated what this epic battle had been all about. Soon an impromptu party began around them and they were once again caught up in the swell of well-wishers. Even her dad showed up and eventually was tossing back drinks with everyone else.

Afterwards, the newlyweds snuck off to a more secluded spot.

Brienne tried not to look too contrite as she took his hand in hers, “Well since I am to confide everything to you husband, you should know that I made a deal with your father before I let Oberyn champion for me instead of you.”

Concerned, he grasped her arm, “Oh no, Brienne. What did you promise him?” He should have known his father would never do anything just from the kindness of his heart, there were always strings attached.

In her exhale she stated, “I promised him Stannis’ head as well as Castle Black.”

The lack of surprise was evident in his weary tone, “Please tell me you got something else out of this deal.”

With her chin haunting held high, she proudly stated, “We marry when we want to.”

Surprisingly, he seemed rather crestfallen at her prideful declaration.

Noticing that he was trying to be brave, she added softly, “And I figured since everyone is still here at the castle we can do it tomorrow afternoon.” She shyly glanced at him. “That is if you want to.”

His grin was now wide and true and he nodded his assent. Then his smile became somewhat sour, “And let me guess, our honeymoon will also be up North.”

“Actually,” she sniffed almost insulted, but soon the secret grin that was only meant for him emerged, “I thought of someplace else.” 

With a slight tone of teasing, he groused out, “Oh, you don’t want to take over Winterfell now?” 

“Your father did not seem to feel the need to chide me.” Brienne huffed out irritated.

“True, but then he does not know of your altruistic motives nor how stubborn you can be.” He relaxed his grip on her arm and began to stroke it. “So where does my wife wish to go for our honeymoon?”

Gritting out through clenched teeth, her blue eyes challenged his as she stated, “I would like for us to go down to Dorne and pay our respects to Oberyn’s family.”

Jaime nodded solemnly in agreement. He owed that brave man a lot. “Yes, I think that is a good idea. Why it should even be very pleasant this time of year.” Besides, he was concerned that his daughter might be sought out in revenge and he wanted her back at Casterly Rock as soon as possible for protection.

Then less sternly she asked, “And maybe we can name one of our children after him.” 

Smugly he laughed, liking the idea very much. “And then?”

Once more Brienne stood tall, “Then I thought it would be fun to vacation up North.”

Jaime began to curse out. “Fun? Brienne…” 

As usual, her plans overrode his concerned voice, “Your father will only let me kill Stannis, but I say we can do more. Besides this way I can finish off my last two pledges. Kill him and then get Sansa safely to Winterfell to rule it. But I will need your help, and your brothers.”

“My brother?” he smirked out, his green eyes alit with mirth.

Still stubborn she reminded him, “Yes, technically he is still married to the rightful ruler of Winterfell, so he can fill the vacuum that Stannis will leave and lead his troops down to retake it. Most of Stannis’ troops want revenge for the betrayal that Bolton and the Frey’s did to the Starks and would march there to put the rightful ruler back in power.”

Shaking his head, Jaime glanced away, “You seem to think that my brother would willingly attack Winterfell?”

She sought out his gaze, “He’ll listen to you.”

Jaime snorted his doubt about that, “It’s funny you just happen to mention him. I received another crow from my brother just the other day. Asked how we were fairing. I never replied.”

Nodding pleased, “Let him know we are well and married, but do not mention our plans, not even veil them.”

He rolled his eyes at the obviousness of her words, “Fine, but I have a few caveats of my own.”

Brienne’s smile was quickly replaced with her usual frown. With a belligerent air, she motioned for him to continue.

“You are not to attempt to kill Stannis by yourself, it is too dangerous. And you must agree that if my brother refuses to help us that we will retreat and never ever try this again.” 

“But…” As she angrily began to protest he grabbed her arm to still her.

“No Brienne. Things are too dangerous up North to leave a power vacuum.” He cut off her next objection, “And Sansa does not have the ability to rule as of yet.”

She crossed her arms now and glowered at him. 

“Those are my terms, wench. And know that I am only agreeing to go with you so to keep you out of trouble.” He prayed to the Seven that his brother would use his innate survival instincts and decline any involvement. 

Though her tone was reluctant, she nodded her head in agreement. “Alright, I accept your terms.” In her heart she knew her pledge was true and that they would succeed.

“Good. Now usually an agreement is sealed with a kiss…” and he pulled her in close. At first the kiss was all him, but then she gave in and joyfully returned his passion.

Breathless, they pulled back and Jaime laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I really wish my brother could be here for our wedding.”

Happy that most of her plans were working out for her benefit, Brienne smiled sincerely at her betrothed, “We will see him soon enough.”

Brienne’s toothy grin was not lost on him. “So what are you grinning at?”

Her smirk vanished but then she remembered her pledge to not keep secrets from him, “You once mentioned that I was not used to being forced to do as I was told.”

“Hum yes, something about that delightful wiggle room that you no longer had.” He lightly tickled her which earned him a harder punch to the shoulder.

Now it was her turn to be smug, “Yes, and guess what, I still got my own way.”

He laughed loudly at that and grasped her waist to hug her, “You are mad, my Lady.”

“Well, it is too late now to have regrets, my Lord. You bested me at swords, so now you are stuck with me.” Her mock pout got another chuckle out of him.

Then grinning cheekily at her, he happily stated, “And I can think of worst penances.” And they kissed again.

*

Later they told their fathers of their wedding plans. Suddenly it was a blur as everything was quickly being organized for the simple but lovely nuptials for tomorrow afternoon. Tywin was especially in a hurry, worried that some other calamity might occur to once again prevent his son’s wedding.

Brienne’s father noticed how bored the couple was getting as more and more ideas were being built upon. Then once after all the more basic plans were figured out, Selwyn decided to distract all present with amusing stories so that they could sneak off for some private time.

Jaime of course had to make some comment about wanting to stick around so he could hear more little Brienne stories, but she pulled him along. Selwyn winked at them when he noticed them sneaking away. 

Jaime’s smile beamed, “You know, I think your father likes me.”

Her light laughter accompanied them up the stairs.

*

That night while in her bed chambers, Brienne confided in Jaime all her long hidden secrets and wishes until the early hours of the morning. It felt wonderful to be able to do so.

Jaime knew she had had a rough upbringing, but if he ever saw that Septa of hers or those so called knights who harassed her in Renly’s camp, he’d make them very sorry. And it did help him to understand more of her reluctance in trusting others to help her. All seemed to be constantly trying to knock her down. But as she reminded him, both of their past lives have shaped them into the people they are today. And according to her, they were at the pinnacle of their new existence.

He joked out, “Then I shall worry for the rest of our lives.”

Honestly to him that only meant they had farther to fall, but he kept such negativity to himself. Now he instead planned to revel in his new happiness because in a few hours they were to marry and would be together forever.

His lustful grin made her blush more, but she did not dissuade it and she kissed him all the harder. She also could not wait to consummate their commitment to one another.

*

The next morning they woke up early in each other’s arms and to Jaime it felt wonderful. He always had to sleep by himself. Cersei was insistent that they could never stay together long – though long enough for them to get what they needed from one another – for fear of being caught. For years he shrugged off that empty feeling as being the best it could be. But now with this woman sleeping next to him, all he could think about was the many possibilities for their future together.

Brienne opened her eyes to his most infectious smile yet and she shared one of her own with him. Before they could speak, there was a timid knock on her door. Groaning, she sat up, tugging her tunic down where it had rolled up from Jaime’s more expressive touches.

“Yes?” Jaime nearly laughed at the harsh tone she used. ‘Their children will quake in her womb’, he thought with a grin.

“My Lady, the King and the Lord Hand wish to see you and Ser Jaime before you are to marry.”

“Understood.” She did not want to focus on what all must be thinking since Jaime had stayed with her the entire night. She glanced over at him and he held up three fingers which caused her to scowl. “Please tell them we will be there within the hour.”   
If they went by Jaime’s time frame they’d have missed their own wedding. Then she blushed when she realized it was his intent to remind her how much he was looking forward to truly being with her.

“Yes my Lady and thank you.” The page’s muffled voice was followed by the hastening of his footsteps as he quickly retreated.

Jaime mockingly grimaced at her, so she innocently shrugged. “We mustn’t get in their bad graces, my Lord.”

“No I suppose not, my wench, though you could have told him to bring us up some food before he left. All that talking built up quite the appetite.” His uncovered stump lazily ran up and down her bare arm and she shivered in anticipation. He grinned at the flare of the blush that coincided with his ministrations. “I will never get tired of this.”

Chastely she leaned in and whispered against his lips, “I neither, Jaime.”

He pushed hard against her lips with his, “Say my name again.”

As she crooned out his name, he easily turned it into a moan from her. 

Unfortunately being the center of Jaime’s attention meant she easily lost track of the time and she disliked being late. To her it just seemed rude, especially when in regards to the ruler of Westeros.

Begrudgingly, they pulled apart. Cheekily grinning at her, he rose to his feet, “I better go get changed for our wedding. Who knows how long my father will berate us.”

“Yes, we are cutting it close.” Brienne glowered at him. She really did hate being rushed.

As he turned to leave, he noticed she was gazing befuddled at her small cache of clothes. She had not even planned on what to wear for her wedding day. He was tempted to suggest just his cloak, but knew either she would hit him really hard or turn such a lovely shade of blush that she might never revert back to her natural pale tone before the wedding. Instead, he approached her as one would a scared calf. “It is okay, Brienne. What of the dress they were fitting you for earlier?”

She bit out, “Why continue to make it after I was accused of murder.” The Maid could not believe how crazed she suddenly felt. She was to marry in less than 2 hours and she had nothing to wear. Much to her consternation she could not believe such thoughts would have ever entered her mind. They seemed so girly. She tiredly sighed, now overwhelmed and exhausted at the same time.

“I guess I should be grateful I wanted a simple affair.” She sat down in a huff.

Jaime pursed his grin and walked over studying her, “Go ahead and freshen up, Brienne. I will send someone back shortly with your bridal gown.”

Her relieved smile became a frown. Just what was he up to? Taking in her concern, Jaime placatingly said, “Trust me, my Lady Wench.”

“Oh, so now I get a title?” 

“Yes, the Lady Wench of Casterly Rock. I like the sound of that.” His grin now showed teeth. Then he kissed her cheek and turned to leave the room. 

“Well hurry, we are to marry soon.” She coyly demanded. The smirk on her face made her blue eyes sparkle in mirth and something else.

He gallantly bowed to her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the entire Westeros.”

And then he left.

Soon a page came to her with a wrapped garment. With a pleased chuckle she shook out her pretty green dress. Maybe the dress would be considered lucky now, she reasoned. Just like her, it kept surviving dangerous perils. And thankfully since it wasn’t going to be a traditional wedding anyway she figured why not give it another chance. 

Then the ornate dagger Jaime had given her dropped onto the bed. It had been polished and the two sapphire eyes shined almost as brightly as her own.

Moments later Brienne quickly strode toward the main Keep. Alas, with her purposeful long gait, it was difficult to appear gentile in her wedding dress, especially since she still had a slight limp.

Already she could not wait to exchange their wedding vows in that lovely picnic area Jaime had taken her to a week ago. Those thoughts made her awkward steps more determined so she was surprised when Cersei was suddenly by her elbow. It was as if she had waited in the shadows to pounce on her. Brienne loudly sighed. She should not have been surprised, the majority of the time, the recipient to the page was the last to know the message.

“Sorry, my Lady.” Brienne had to slow down so not to bump into the smaller woman.

“Please Brienne, we are sisters now.” Cersei looped her arm through the crock of Brienne’s which forced her to further slowdown.

The Maid of Tarth frowned at such words, but unfortunately Cersei was correct.

“Yes, sister?” She hoped the lilting sound of her voice would offend Cersei enough that she would leave her be. Instead, she tightened her grip on her elbow and made them both stop.

Though her smile was one of bemused indulgence, internally Cersei seethed. She had recently found out that having Oberyn fight the Mountain had been Brienne’s idea. Once again this cow’s dumb luck had thwarted Cersei’s plans for getting Jaime to Highgarden. And now she was running out of time if she was going to stop this woman from marrying him. Desperate she figured she would lock the Maid in the nearby King’s vault until she had the time to kill this beast of a woman. 

Obviously Brienne would not trust her so she had to first knock the giantess off her stride. Thankfully she knew the main weakness of this stubborn cow, her lack of self-esteem.

With a mocking sound of disdain she gave Brienne the quick once over, “Don’t tell me you are wearing that to your wedding?”

Brienne tried to sound blasé about the whole thing, but inside she cringed, “Yes, Jaime asked me to.”

Now the derision seemed to ooze out of Cersei’s pores, “Men have absolutely no idea in regards to fashion sense.”

Through her gritted teeth Brienne replied as forcefully as she dared, “I am in a hurry, sister. Can you please tell me what you need?”

“Why I only want to make your life easier. I feel it is my duty to tell you all the things your future husband likes and does not. I can even tell you what Jaime’s preferences are in bed.” She sneered out the last comment and Brienne already felt her cheeks heating up. Cersei would never know if it was from rage or embarrassment.

Realizing she was now in equal standing with Cersei and that she no longer has to put up with this shit, Brienne coolly gave the woman the once over, “I am sure my husband will enjoy showing me what he likes, in and out of bed. I know there are a lot of old habits he wishes to forget.” Her young eyes gleamed possessively and she noticed the other woman scowl at the sting.   
Brienne wasn’t the only one with thin skin. 

Cersei nearly spat something more condemning out when she noticed they were no longer alone. A noble woman was suddenly beside them. Cersei turned to the interloper, “Do you mind?”

“Actually I do.” The older woman calmly told her. It took Cersei a moment to recognize the highborn woman.

“Oh, it’s the Lady Etna of the House of Hollard, wonderful, just what I need.” In irritation Cersei began to stomp away, but Brienne grabbed her arm and tugged her back. The woman before them was no longer alone as several figures emerged from out of the shadows. Brienne did not trust the five rather large men who were now cutting off any escape routes.

“Lady Brienne, please excuse us. This is between two mothers.” The older woman grounded out the words at Cersei.

Brienne was tempted to leave Cersei there to fend for herself but she knew Jaime would not appreciate her leaving a family member behind in a threatening situation. Besides, there was a possibility that Cersei was pregnant and she had to defend the innocent child.

Though Brienne wouldn’t put it past Cersei to be lying about being pregnant and instead was actually just getting fat. She had seen it numerous times with noble women of Cersei’s age who lead a sedentary and opulent lifestyle.

Regardless, with the danger before them, Brienne grimly knew she would not risk an unborn child’s life.

She shook her head, “No, she is family. Leave her be.”

“I can look after myself oaf. I am…” 

“I know all your titles, my Lady. None of which will save you now.” Lady Etna grounded out and signaled the armed men to approach.

Cersei stood at her full height and Brienne mimicked her posture. She was gratified to see the men respond by squaring their shoulders in preparation.

“What is your issue with her?” Brienne commanded out, trying to sound loud enough to alert any passer-byers. But thanks to her ‘sister’ they had stopped in a section that seldom saw any visitors.

The condemning words came out as a staccato accusation, “She knows what she did. And it is time to die for it.”

Cersei began to reply with something spiteful, but then suddenly thought better of it. Instead she ducked into the only open doorway, leaving Brienne to fend for herself. As the armed men rushed towards her, the Maid had no choice but to follow Cersei into the darkened opening. She then heaved the only available object at them which was an old heavy disused candelabrum. This momentarily forced her opponents back which gave her enough time to shove the heavy wooden door closed. There wasn’t a lock, this barrier was more to keep the weather out, but she was able to prop up a chair against it.

Worriedly Brienne peered around and was surprised to find herself in the underground King’s vault. Curiously the area was devoid of people. Then to her horror she realized this was probably what they wanted. There would be neither witnesses nor any other way out. Jaime had not told her much about the catacombs, only that it ran under the entire Keep.

Glancing fleetingly around at the large dragon statues, she faintly heard Cersei’s retreating footsteps over the pounding at the door. It would not keep them out for long.

Quickly she scurried off after her. As the darkness swallowed her up, she heard the door being finally smash open. Slowing down, Brienne then began to hug the shadows and tried to control her harsh breathing.

Once again she nearly stepped on Cersei. “Watch out you big oaf.” She heard hissed up at her. 

Cersei was disappointed, shouldn’t she have been killed defending her already?

In the distance, they heard their pursuer’s order to split up and the light off of the lit torches bounced around as they neared.  
With no choice, they went deeper into the vault and then ducked further into the shadows to hide. They seemed to have momentarily lost those after them, but Brienne knew that with no other exit it would not take them long to be discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I could not resist one last cliffhanger!
> 
> And I am so sorry about Oberyn! I really wished I could have saved him, but I have no idea on how to work that in with his character and his obsessive need for the truth to be publically divulged.


	12. Chapter 12

The King’s vault was proving to be a rather dusty place and though Cersei was out of breath (damn this baby fat!) she was about to sneeze. She just barely stopped herself from giving away their location to those hunting them.

Brienne frowned at the smaller woman behind her. If it had not been for Cersei’s unborn child… With a sigh she went back to her vigil for any signs of pursuit. She wanted to ask Cersei what it was with the Lannister clan that made so many people want to kill them. Instead she asked, “Why are they after you?”

Cersei huffed out, “Their son killed my Joffrey.”

“So you had hers killed in retaliation.” Brienne remembered Jaime telling her how helpless he felt as his son died in his arms.

“No, but I wish I had. His bolt riddled body was found in a row boat with a necklace that was laced with the poison that killed my son.” Exhausted, Cersei leaned back against the wall and nearly wept.

Nodding, Brienne thought a moment. Then she reached down and pulled out the hidden dagger that Jaime had given her. She then handed Cersei the ornate blade, “This may not be a sword my Lady, but your brother did say you two spared as children.”

Cersei studied the object in obvious jealous contempt. “He told you that?”

“He tells me everything.” Brienne nearly added that she almost couldn’t get him to shut up sometimes. Suddenly feeling pity for the depressed woman beside her, she innocently asked, “Don’t you want someone you can confide in?”

The former Queen could not believe the audacity of this woman, “I had, until you took him away from me.”

“I never take what is freely given. You chased him away, he would still be yours otherwise.” Brienne grounded out and continued the pretext of keeping sentry so she would not have to look at Jaime’s smirking twin.

Cersei was pleased to hear the bitterness in the Maid’s tone. She then stared at the ornate dagger in her hand and figured how easy it would be to shove it into the big oaf’s neck. As more credence came to that thought, they both heard the multiple footsteps of their pursuers approaching. They each instinctively backed more into the shadows. Brienne realized they were outnumbered and she would have to somehow lower the odds in their favor if they were going to get out of this alive.

The nearing torchlight indicated that there was now only one armed man slowly coming their way.

“Can’t you get any further back into the shadows?” Brienne spoke low.

“Not all of us are as svelte as you, beast.” Cersei sneered out, feeling rather put upon about the whole situation.  
As Cersei stared at the beautiful ornate dagger, she was reminded of her brother and all she had lost. Then she grumbled internally for all she had gained. Now she was stuck with Loras and the mother-in-law from hell. And she swore she was so large because she was having twins, not because of too much over indulgence! 

And now this… thing, was taking her Jaime away.

Turning to warn her to be prepared, Brienne saw the blade glinting in the flickering light and she recognized Cersei rapt stare at the weapon. “Your brother never said you were a coward.” Her harsh whisper almost sounded like a hiss of splattering acid.

“Oh?” Cersei almost wondered aloud what else her brother had mentioned when she noticed that the Maid’s eyes were focused on what was in her hand. 

“If you are to kill me, then have the courtesy of doing it while facing me.” Well that made this easier, Brienne thought. Pregnant woman or no, they were running out of advantages. “Especially since you are about to owe me your blood debt.” Brienne’s eyes flashed dangerously in the nearing torchlight. 

Before Cersei could ask, “What are you talking about?” Brienne then shoved the woman out of the safety of the shadows and right into the path of one of their pursuer’s. 

The man practically yelled, “Ah hah!” and rushed towards Cersei. She couldn’t get the dagger up in time and he was suddenly on top of her. Then a meaty hand reached out from the shadows and pulled him off of Cersei’s struggling body. The assailant was then slammed head first into the nearest dragon statues backside. He was then yanked around to the other side of the narrow corridor and his head was pummeled into the other large dragon that bracketed them. His groan of pain was then silenced when he was once more knocked into the first Dragon.

Though it was crude it was still effective. Alas, the noise of his head hitting the hard stone had alerted the others, so Brienne shoved Cersei back and kicked the discarded lit torch near her feet, which easily illuminated the cursing woman. From all her frustrations, an enraged Cersei slashed at Brienne with the dagger. She was no one’s bait. But Brienne had already retreated loudly into the nearby shadows causing Cersei to wince at her luck of saviors. 

The party of five began to lurk their way towards her, the angry mother leading the pack.

Cersei quietly observed one of the men in the back suddenly being grabbed, his cry muffled by the large calloused hand. He disappeared into the darkness and then his unconscious body sank downwards until only his shoes peaked out from the shadows.

The Lannister easily saw the hulking figure of Brienne move to take out another man, but her not so light footsteps were heard. She was just too big and ungainly to have any stealth ability. Two of the men suddenly pivoted and leapt at her. 

Instead of grappling with them, Brienne charged forward. She bowled through the group and used her mass to shove them out of her way. Two more of the men then slammed into the hard marble statues and now they lay moaning stunned on the cold stone floor. 

Once again she stood in front of Cersei, but unlike her twin, Brienne dared not turn her back entirely on her. In spite she might try to take her life. This unfortunately also hampered her ability to protect Cersei better.

Now only the woman and one other was left, definitely better odds …. And then the man she had first knocked out came to and groggily grabbed onto Brienne’s leg and held on fast. She went to kick him off when the other man pinned one of her arms, then another one staggered to his feet and grabbed her other one. It took four of them to hold her back, but soon it was just the woman facing the dagger wielding Cersei.

The Lannister was practically spitting in anger at Brienne, “Next time you big lumbering cow, you be the bait and I will sneak around killing them.”

Brienne quickly protested out in a hiss of pain, “I don’t want to kill them. There has already been too much death.” Memories of Lord Tywin’s earlier discussion about the need for his family to change their ways came to mind. Maybe now was the time to make that happen, ironically even before she took on the family title.

“Your honor will get us killed.” Cersei yelled out in frustration.

Lady Etna scoffed at the small dagger that was being bandied about in front of her, “I am surprised you even know of the word, my Lady.”

The men kicked Brienne’s feet out from under her. They then shoved her to the ground and held her down with their combined weight. This frees up one of the men who then strode over to Cersei. 

The Lannister twin was pleased she made the man bleed before he was able to wrestle the small blade from her hands. He then shoved her back hard enough that when her head smacked into the stone wall, she momentarily saw stars.

“Stop!” Brienne yelled out while still struggling against her captors. “Enough. No one is to die on my wedding day! Lady Etna, please, this has to cease. Listen to me. So you kill her and then what? You still have other children. Do you think Lord Tywin will permit any of your family to survive if you kill her?”

“She had no right to kill my son…” The pensive woman pleaded as if any of that would matter to the Lannister family.

A dazed Cersei began to groggily sneer something out, but Brienne argued louder, “Regardless, revenge will beget revenge. You risk having your entire lineage killed off over this. Now is the time to stop this madness before none of you are left alive. But then maybe the rest of us would be better off if you two did so.” Brienne now stared coolly at Cersei, she needed to understand this as well.

The Lady Etna thought a moment and then reluctantly agreed. She nodded to the guards holding Brienne, “Release her.” The men do so and Brienne tiredly got to her feet. Already her dress was filthy, but thankfully not ripped.

As she attempted to dust herself off, “Thank you, my Lady. I hope you will come to my wedding as a friend.” All the more this situation reminded her that Jaime would be the one to handle such politics once they were at Casterly Rock.

Cersei nearly screamed for the guards, but she was still too weakened and dazed from the hit to her head. “We cannot let them leave alive.” She grumbled out to the towering woman.

Brienne stalked over to Cersei and roughly grabbed her shoulders. The light shake made the Lannister grimace. The Maid tried to sound patient as she chastised her (after all she would someday have children to raise), “You yourself know what it is like to lose a son and what lengths you would go to for justice.”

Cersei glowered up at her. She refused to feel bad for seeking justice against all who killed her child, especially that brat Sansa and her hideous dwarf of a brother. If her head hadn’t ached so bad, she would had arched something nasty out, such as if you could ever be a mother to know such pain.

Brienne commanding glare stopped any protests from either group. “No one is leaving here until peace can be settled.” She released Cersei who nearly staggered to her knees from being woozy. The Maid turned to face the other woman, “If you come to my wedding, I will know you agree to peace and I will leave you alone. Otherwise…” it was almost as if an unspoken oath was given. The worried older woman slightly curtsied at her and Brienne returned with a slight bow of her own. One of the men then handed Brienne her ornate dagger and she placed it back in her dress pocket.

With one last scowl at Cersei (who had the urge to stick her tongue out at that beast of a woman) she stalked just far enough away in hopes to give them enough privacy so they would to be able to come to a peaceful understanding.

In fear that she might lash out and raise the wrath of Brienne of Tarth, the Lady Etna crossed her arms tightly in prevention, “You accused my son of killing yours. No trial. And now his name is ruined.”

Cersei tiredly leaned against the cold wall and grounded out, “His body was found in the boat. We had nothing to do with it. Though I wish I had.”

“He would never have killed anyone!” Now she did release her arms and she clenched them tightly to her side.

“Your son was too drunk to barely be even good at that. He was actually elevated in standings when given the chance to be our jester!” Even in her dazed state, Cersei’s tongue was not confused.

Brienne almost charged forward to separate any possible confrontation, but Lady Etna smiled sadly to herself as memories of her son’s childhood surfaced. “You now know my son is innocent.”

“Maybe of the mind, but he was involved. The evidence showed he did have a necklace that was infused with the poison … regardless” Cersei made an exaggerated heavy sigh and motioned in Brienne’s general direction, “She is correct. We are both hurting from our losses. Do we call a truce?”

“But my son…” still Lady Etna wanted justice.

“I lost my son as well.” Cersei now held her aching head, her voice slightly slurring. She did not care anymore, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. “And with the evidence we had at the time and the rage you feel over this, what would you have done?”

The Highborn Lady reluctantly nodded. “I would have wanted him and all involved dead.”

“Then peace?” Cersei then nearly cursed, she still had that damn wedding she had to attend to. This really needed to end now.

The other woman sighed, “Yes, peace.”

Each nodded regally to the other as they enacted the means that highborn women used to indicate détente in polite society. With another more formal curtsey at Brienne, the Lady Etna and her men quickly left.

Brienne then stopped Cersei from leaving the corridor. The Lannister groaned in frustration as the younger woman began to tell her a few new rules, “From now on my Lady, you will only speak kind words in my presence. Or at least keep your mouth shut.” 

The threat was apparent and technically Cersei did owe her something. She grudgingly nodded in acceptance. Unlike her twin brother, Cersei could keep her mouth shut when cautioned. She found that in being a woman her words were often discounted or violently responded to anyway, so mostly she kept her sharp tongue in cheek. She spoke more with her mannerisms and facial expressions anyway. 

Pleased, Brienne turned and left. She didn’t know if Cersei would follow her out and figured she cared least if she did. 

She then realized that she had won. Brienne got the man she loved and a magnificent castle to rule with him. Cersei instead got a loveless marriage, a ‘strict’ mother’ in law and now it seemed excess baby weight. Brienne would have felt sorry for her if it hadn’t been Cersei. 

Internally cursing, Brienne then presumed she was late and hastened faster to the exit.

Cersei was about to trail when the familiar dulcet tones of the Spider flowed out to her. From the shadows, Varys stepped forward. “Nice speech, my Lady. How long will you allow them to live?”

She smirked, her pain momentarily forgotten as she plotted revenge, “After the wedding would be fine. We wouldn’t want to sour the festivities.” The pinched expression on her features belayed that the nausea was already occurring. With a slight mock she stated, “Besides the Lady Brienne has been kind enough to invite them. How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear your declaration for peace. They are under her protection.” He reminded her.

“I heard no pledge for their benefit.” She purposely ignored the implied command of the Maid of Tarth.

He took in her pained features, “Any blood?”

She tenderly touched the back of her head and winced when she found red on her hand. “Enough to use as an excuse to not to go to their stupid wedding.”

Glancing at the light smear of blood he tisked, “I’m afraid that amount would not be a good enough reason for your father. I can help you with that though.” he innocently put forth.

She sneered openly at him, “No, I would likely be dead then.”

Varys bowed in his usual obsequious way, “Well we are expected at the wedding. Shall we?” he offered her his arm. 

Resigned, she nodded and allowed him to help her out of the catacombs.

*

As Brienne emerged out of the King’s vault she grimaced at the bright sunlight. Suddenly a page made a beeline toward her. She frowned expecting to be chastised for being late to the King but the page simply smiled pleasantly and waited silently next to her.

She was confused for only a moment because Jaime was suddenly there, smirking at her flummoxed expression. “How did you find me?”

The Lannister cockily stated, “If you ever need to find anyone, just ask a page. Their tracking system is amazing.”

The young page proudly nodded, “Yes, Ser. Our tricks have been handed down for generations, for only the swiftest of us have survived over the years.

Jaime smirked at this, “Hum, a sort of don’t shoot the messenger type incentive, I believe.” And he tossed the page a silver. “Thank you.” Pleased the young man scurried off.

Taking in her rumpled appearance, Jaime’s grin became one of concern, “By the Seven Brienne, are you okay?”

Sighing out tiredly, “Yes, but it is a long story.” She began to pull him with her as she once again strode toward their needed destination. Jaime glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to see his unkempt sister being assisted out of the vault by Varys. 

Incredulous he did a double take when he saw the obviously out of it Cersei stumble. “So it finally happened. You taught my sister a lesson and I was not there to witness it.” 

Her short bark of a laugh clued him in that there was something more. She was about to ignore his increasingly aggressive stomps, but his stern expression made her slow down. “Please, I promise to tell you all about it on our way to the King. Oh no, how bad do I look?”

His grip on her arm tightened which stopped her. Jaime once again studied her figure from head to toe. “You look amazing. Though I am surprised you didn’t get hurt as usual.” 

“I must have been guarding the wrong Lannister.” She grinned out cheekily. Tugging on his arm, she hurried them to the King. During which she quickly told him everything that occurred in the vault. 

To say that Jaime was angry was an understatement, but she assured him that everything was taken care of. She had handled it after all. 

“And my Lady, I am proud that you managed the situation as a ruler of Casterly Rock should.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance.

She shyly smiled and nodded. Though he wanted to accept her beliefs of promises being honored, he would still ask the spies too keep an eye on that family. He did not want a dagger in his son Tommen’s back one day due to underestimating these circumstances. 

Of course Brienne would not need to know any of this, it was just a precaution after all. Still he was pleased she told him everything, but grumpily he really wished he could have seen his sister’s face during all this.

*

Upon being admitted into the Hand’s study, Jaime and Brienne realized that King Tommen was missing.

Tywin absentmindedly waved his arm about the room muttering something about dressing up kittens for his Uncle’s wedding, but they might have misheard. He then glanced up and took in Brienne’s disheveled appearance and frowned. 

“A bit of a disagreement, my Lord Hand, but it has been handled.” She spoke calmly as Tywin pursed his lips in contemplation.   
“I see.” At first Tywin’s smile seemed forced and then he nodded in acceptance at her lack of an explanation. He would find out later from his sources if needed be. Now his voice held a bit of humor to it, which automatically made Jaime leery, “It seems that you two are missing something vital for your wedding attire.”

“Oh, do tell father?” Jaime replied with an overly exaggerated quirked eyebrow. 

Not appreciating his sons impudence, he nearly snarled out, “Yes, here.” And Tywin pointed at the two clothed covered objects on his desk.

The younger Lannister indicated for Brienne to go first. Rather timidly she uncovered the oblong objects. To both their surprise and pleasure they are the valarian swords that his father had made for the family a while ago. 

“I believe this one is yours, my Lady?” With two hands, Tywin carefully lifted the heavy Oathkeeper and Brienne purred when she held it once again.

The Maid could hardly keep the pleasure from her voice, her eyes never leaving it, “Thank you, Lord Tywin.”

The Hand smirked at the reverence in her tone. At least she appreciated the gift. 

Then with much less gusto, he passed the smaller blade to Jaime, “It was only fair that you have a matching set. Let them be my wedding gifts to you both.” Internally he chuckled at how different this wedding was to be. It only made sense that the bride would enjoy the practicality of his offering. Besides he figured at least this way when the ruffians saw the blades they would leave her alone for the ‘bedding’.

Trying to hide her giddiness, Brienne did a pretty good curtsey. Seeing how pleased his bride was, Jaime swallowed his pride and regally bowed to his father. “Thank you, my Lord.” He added sincerely. 

Nearly snorting at the change in his son, he dismissed them, “Now off with you two, you have a wedding to attend to. And other things…”

Once again their smile was so wide that Tywin actually grinned back in response from it.

“Thank you again, Lord Hand.”

He tisked at her, “Remember Brienne, it is just Tywin when we are out of court.” He was surprisingly pleased with his new daughter in law. 

“Yes, thank you Tywin.” Now dismissed, Brienne and Jaime rushed from the room, belted swords now lightly bumping against their thighs.

As they left the threshold, Jaime could not help but jokingly say, “You poor woman, I think my father likes you.” He then patted his sheathed sword, “But I truly need to change this one’s name… maybe Widow’s Peak?” he wagged his eyebrows at her.

“Just anything without the word ‘Widow’ in the title would be an improvement.” She said was a distasteful grimace.

Eyeing the large sword on her hip, Jaime grinned out, “I think it is only fitting that you are armed when you wed.” 

Not bothering to even glance at her sword, she smirked, “And thankfully you will never be unarmed with that sharp wit of yours.”

Jaime dramatically swayed in midstride, “Oh my Lady, you wound me to the quick.”

Their affectionate laughter rang about the halls as they then raced to the stables to get horses. It wouldn’t due for them to be so late to their own wedding.

*

The wedding in the idyllic setting went off without a hitch. Sure, Brienne mumbled a few vows nervously and Jaime had difficulty placing his cloak over her shoulders, but compared to other nontraditional ceremonies, this one was rather forgettable. This not so surprisingly pleased the bride more so than the groom.

Jaime had been prepared to enact his revenge against Cersei during the personal vows declarations. He planned that his words would reflect the freedom he now felt to love openly, to be with someone who did not demand more from him than to be loved in return and then he would finish his gloating by kissing Brienne long and hard.

But then during the ceremony, Jaime noticed that when Cersei rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time at some pronouncement, that she nearly passed out. He suddenly felt pity for his sister and instead of making this about a past he no longer craved, it would be focusing on the person that he wanted to share the rest of his future with. The weight from letting all that go felt tremendous and Brienne lightly frowned when she observed his far off pleased grin. He then noticed her concern and he surreptitiously shook his head for her to not worry about it.

Blearily Cersei had witnessed the entire proceedings and smirked at the ridiculousness of it all. The bride was a disaster in a dirty green dress and both wore swords on their hips!

Even the heartfelt words they said to one another before they recited their actual vows were cringe worthy.

Jaime had started first with the words of, “Once I lost this,” he held up his stump, which the sight of still made Cersei’s teeth ache from grinding them so hard, “I wanted to die. And I almost did. But you kept me alive with your words… and other things.” His eyes lit up at the memory of the baths in Harrenhal and when she blushed, he knew she realized that he was talking about seeing her naked.

“And you reminded me that good can be redeemed, reclaimed and accepted.” She muttered loud enough for him to hear and his smile was so full of earnest that Cersei feared cheese would ooze out his nose. “You will have my heart forever.” Brienne whispered out.

Ignoring the sound of his sister’s gnashing teeth he solemnly gazed into his beloved’s sapphire colored eyes, “It is your kindness and purity that has helped me to become a better person and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Brienne smiled shyly at his words and nodded quickly in agreement. “And I with you.”

The Septon had been watching for when he should start and Jaime impatiently motioned with his covered stump that they were now ready for the matrimonial vows.

Cersei thought she would spit blood after such a tedious display of treacle. Ironically she was thankful that her headache was in full swing. She would be able to escape the majority of the large celebration that was planned for this evening. At least Lady Etna had the good grace to stay far away from her during the ‘ceremony.’

And just like that, they were married in front of all their family and friends.

Lord Selwyn actually had tears in his eyes as he cheered loudly with the others. The Tyrell’s were also there and even Loras cried with his sister. People then rushed forward to congratulate them and they were quickly surrounded by well-wishers.

Already the audience was vociferously celebrating around them and a carousing precession began to head back towards the Keep. Brienne and Jaime overlooked a few well-placed japes from all. Still ignoring the cat calls, they once again passionately kissed, “I cannot believe that we are finally married.” She grinned out after catching her breath.

Jaime nodded, just as pleased. “I finally have you at my mercy.” He nipped her ear, “And I cannot wait to make you my Lady this evening.” Her blush would be a most welcome beacon for him tonight.

As the large joyous party continued their trek, Jaime and Brienne’s flower decorated horses are led up to them. 

Just before they were to get onto them, Lord Tywin meanders over. Brienne and Jaime share a disquieted glance at one another and wait for him to arrive. Grimacing, Jaime realized that it was just like his father to ruin a good time.

Once the revelers have moved on and out of ear shot, the Lord Hand gets right to his point. Originally Tywin would not have agreed to this cockamamie plan of hers if he had thought that there would have been any chance that Oberyn could have tied. “My Lady, I trust that you will be fulfilling your part of our bargain immediately?”

Jaime was suddenly very protective of her and Brienne wondered just what Tywin had said to convince his son to agree to let Oberyn champion for her over him.

Brienne stiffly acknowledged her past agreement to the Lord Hand, “Yes, but first we plan on paying our respects to Prince Oberyn’s family down South.”

“No, I am sending Lord Baelish with the Prince’s retinue as our emissary. He will bring our condolences personally to them.” There was no way he was going to risk the possibility of them being murdered by the spiteful ruling party. Dornish sovereigns were unpredictable hotheads, especially when family members were killed. He would let the silver tongue Littlefinger take that chances. Besides if his son was correct about Baelish and his power grab at the Vale, this would keep him busy for some time while he investigated those claims.

Brienne nearly blanched at his decree.

Jaime stood tall next to his wife in support, “But I am also indebted to the Prince, father.” Besides, he was concerned for his daughter. He was worried about the possible ramifications due to Oberyn’s death.

Nearly snarling in outrage, Tywin spat out, “I am afraid that is not what we agreed to.”

“I am concerned for my… for Myrcella.” Jaime quickly amended when his father glanced sharply at him.

Tywin saw the worry in his son’s eyes and relented, “I have told Baelish to bring her back here to safety.”

“But…”

“It will be handled with gentle diplomacy.” Once again his tone decreed end of discussion.

Jaime exhaled, but knew it was best not to push his father. He would just have to figure something out later.

The newlyweds scowled sullenly but there was no more brokering with the Lord Hand. Brienne really wished she had requested more caveats. It never dawned on her to ask for permission to go to Dorne. She thought since it was the honorable thing to do that it would be automatically accepted as their next course of action. But then her father in law was about as noble as the hard throne he wished to someday rule from.

As both men glowered at one another, Jaime took some smug satisfaction in knowing that one of their children was to be named after the Red Viper. That was the one thing his father could not order them not to do. Frankly, Jaime was tempted to name all their first children after Oberyn just out of spite.

Realizing that his demeanor was not helping things, Tywin calmed down somewhat. “Lady Brienne, regardless you promised me that you would hurry this up and finish your pledge so that you can start the Lannister legacy. I insist that you get to work on that last part tonight after the party.”

Jaime almost sarcastically said something, but an outraged Brienne spoke over him. “What? I will not chance bringing an innocent into this…”

Coolly he regarded her, “I trust this vendetta of yours shouldn’t take so long that you would birth in the middle of it?”

She glanced away and he knew he had her on that. Then to a silently seething Jaime, “And you are not getting any younger son.”

“And neither are you dear father.” Jaime’s emerald colored eyes were cold in anger.

Tywin chose not to acknowledge his son’s insolence, “Yes, exactly. I want to see heirs in my lifetime. Actually I think you should forgo your actions against Stannis. At least wait a few years before you take on such a dangerous task.”

Jaime was surprised that for once he agreed with his father, but he knew his stubborn wench better than this blustering old fool did. “You cannot go against what you promised her…”

Now it was Tywin’s turn to bristle, “You yourself cannot be in agreement with her foolhardy oath! I am surprised that you think it was alright that your wife wants to risk all because of it.”

Jaime went to pull Brienne out of his way to fully confront his father but his embarrassed wife ended all of the discussion with a loud groan.

“Fine, enough.” she grounded out and was blushing so hard that she thought she had melted a little. “I assure you Lord Hand, it will not take long to kill Stannis.”

His grin showed sharp teeth. “It better not.”

“Or you will do what? Chain her to the bed? She is my wife and we will handle this.” Regardless of how Jaime felt prior to the wedding, there was no way his father was going to dictate what they were going to do. Brienne couldn’t have asked for a better means to get her husband to willingly do what she wanted and she nearly thanked her father in law openly for it.

“Good.” Tywin said pleased to have the last word. Making sure of such, he quickly strode away.

Jaime held her hand tightly and shook it with every word spoken, “Please tell me you did not promise him anything else.”

Tiredly she stated, “No, but I am afraid he already has our first born ruling Westeros.” 

Jaime quirked his grin cockily at her, “Then may he have your temperament.” To seal the deal, they give each other a peck on the lips and then hastily rode back to the Keep. Both wished the party tonight would end quickly.

*

As the bride and groom sat on the dais with both their father’s – who were scarily well into their cups – and the King (with his bride to be), the celebration before them was at full on party mode. 

Thankfully Cersei claimed to have a headache and had left just as things began to get good. Surprisingly Loras was fun at the celebration and he gave Brienne some interesting advice on what pleases a man. She figured it helped that his wife was no longer at the festivities.

Though neither would openly admit it, the newlyweds were relieved that Cersei would be leaving in the morning with her husband. For some reason she had already conscripted Qyburn to go back with them to Highgarden, which was fine with Jaime. That odd little man gave him the creeps. 

Now though Brienne was silently focused on other things. For some reason the Kingsguard was trying to once again get into her good graces and was showing off with feats of manliness. Currently two of the larger men were arm wrestling to the cheer and jeers of their comrades.

Pursing her lips, the new bride cordially nodded to them in acknowledgement, but internally she was seething. How quickly they had turned against her when she had been accused of killing Renly. And now they wanted to be her friends again? Grateful to know the truth about their duplicitous nature, she figured at least she could always trust Jaime. He might be a bit of a mischievous rogue, but he still had a good and noble heart. 

Jaime noticed her trying to hide her sour expression and rubbed his stump on her leg. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She grounded out. Then with a dip of her head she surreptitiously indicated the drunken fools before her. “Just remembering that I only have a very few I can ever trust.” She then held tightly to the remainder of this right arm.

Nodding, he silently agreed that it was a very valuable lesson, especially where they would eventually end up ruling. “I am sorry that they treated you that way, but they are only loyal to the King, that is their job. They still respect you though, I am afraid that is all you will ever get from them. What else is going on?”

She sighed. “It is not now that is the problem, it is what happens later.” Her grin became a furloughed line. They better not try to carry her away for the bedding, but she knew that once the drunks got started there was no way to stop them. She just hoped that they would at least let her leave some dignity, or maybe she would make them. She clutched the dagger that was in her dresses hidden pocket tighter.

Alas, to be able to sit, they had to remove their swords. Both of which now rested against a nearby wall.

At first Jaime felt insulted at her words and then noticed she was still staring cross at the men throughout the room. ‘Ah, that was it.’ Jaime grimaced at the inebriated revelers as well. He knew his bride had enough problems with self-esteem. She certainly was not looking forward to the ‘grand’ revealing of the bride to the others.

“Well, we could start a distraction and then run away to our chambers. I know I am most certainly looking forward to that.”

She mocked out, “You only want me for sex.” And the absurdity of the thought nearly put a damper on her mood until she took in her husband’s lascivious stare that was aimed only at her.

With his left hand, he tilted up her chin. “I have looked forward to this night since our bath in Harrenhal, my Lady wench.”  
She glared defiant, then relented and sheepishly stated, “I too.”

Jaime quickly glanced about, “Good, then let’s leave while we can.”

Concerned, she stared hard at the overzealous men before her, “How?”

“Leave that to your charming and clever husband.” He pecked her cheek which received some cat calls from the drunken partiers. 

She smirked at that and watched as he dramatically rose to his feet. “Can I have your attention please?” Most lurched around to focus on Jaime and he held up his hand to quiet them. “Thank you. We appreciate all your well wishes and wondrous words. But now we must leave you.” The room erupted in lecherous cheers. To Brienne it seemed as if they were already leaning closer toward her. 

Jaime calmly smiled and continued, “Now I know you all have heard the tale of how my wife killed the Hound?” 

He waited for the ribald hoots to settle down, “But you were never told why they fought in the first place. It was because he tried to embarrass her. Yes, she did not take to kindly when he attempted to ridicule her in public. So naturally you can imagine on such a night as this that she would not care for the foolishness of the bedding.”

The drunks frowned at his words and then studied the grim and angry features of the Lady Brienne of Casterly Rock. Quickly they gulped and agreed that maybe tonight was not a good time to humiliate the bride. Especially one her size and whose very large blade was within arm’s reach.

“Understood?” Though his voice was still jovial, there was an edge to it.

The audience meekly nodded and hastily glanced downwards trying to act ashamed. Acknowledging their mood, Jaime mockingly tisked, “Now, now. Don’t be like that. Instead, tonight is a night for celebration and excess. Enjoy!”

Glumly they accepted this and soon more wine was flowing and then no one seemed to really care anymore about traditions. Besides, the wedding ceremony certainly had not been one.

Brienne smiled pleased as Jaime offered her his arm. As they left they still received many whistles and salacious well wishes.

*

Once safely absconded in their bedchamber, he suddenly pounced on her and both grappled, each trying to get the upper hand.  
Finally he twisted his body just right and she found herself slammed against the door, his hungry mouth on hers. He vowed that when he was done with her, she would be begging for him to take her. She always seemed so timid when it came to such things that he did not want to scare her off of any future beddings.

Jaime then began lightly sucking her neck, just behind her adorable ear. Though she wasn’t Cersei, he knew there were certain areas that anyone would respond to. And of course there were the new places to learn which was fine with him. Besides, half the fun was in the discovery.

As she sighed relaxing, he worked his way to her collarbone, sucking there until she instinctively began to run her hands up and down his back and pull at his hair.

Though his voice was muffled she could hear him start purring out her name and soon she was echoing his so reverently he thought he had reached sainthood.

It did not take him long to reach his goal when he suddenly found himself grabbed and tossed onto the bed. His impact made the bed loudly squeak but it was when she landed nearly on top of him that it groaned forlornly in protest.

He fleetingly wondered if maybe he had awoken a wildcat but then the thought disappeared as both became very interested in the other’s lips and then other body parts.

*

Upon the dawn, the young Lannister woke up and stretched. Pleased with himself, Jaime now stared at his satiated wife. She laid face down and sprawled on the bed, nearly taking all of it up. He wondered if maybe he should request a larger bed, but then figured they would be leaving soon anyway. He would send a crow to the Rock about it though, but then he had time for that too. The Smithy had said that their new armor would not be ready for a few more days. He thought his wife would love his wedding gift to her.

The morning light continued to rise and illuminate the room. Soon there was a timid knock on the door and Jaime wrapped the blanket around himself. And then he admitted the chambermaid who brought in their breakfast. Jaime nodded his thanks and took the tray thus dismissing her.

Carefully placing it down on a bedside table, he then slid into the bed and began to kiss Brienne’s bare freckled shoulder. Moaning, she awoke to her husband’s jovial green eyes. “Morning my wife.”

“Husband.” She grumbled out, reminding him that she was not a morning person. Blurrily realizing he was not a figment of her imagination and would disappear, she forced herself to sit up.

Brienne did not even bother with modesty now and let the sheets pool on her lap. Tiredly she stretched and then noticed that Jaime’s eyes are taking her all in. She shrugged and then reached for the steaming cup of Moon tea.

Expecting a horrible bitterness that she had been warned about, she was actually pleased with the taste. “Don’t know why everyone says Moon tea tastes awful, this is rather pleasant.”

Jaime smirked, he was just grateful that this would never be an issue for him.

As she clinically continued, “Regardless of what your father wants,” she finished off the tea, “we need to make sure that we bring plenty of this on our trip up North.” Then realizing what she was implying, blushed profusely.

Which of course he could not let her get away with that without some sort of a tease. “I love that you want to practice so much, wench.” He rumbled out and kissed her shoulder once more.

She was about to weakly protest, when he suddenly fed her a piece of succulent fruit. His lips soon followed and when she reached to feed him a slice, he was already kissing and licking the juice that had dribbled down her throat. Between light nips and suckles, she had squeezed the held fruit to a pulp.

He eyed the dribbling sticky liquid dubiously and grabbed her sticky hand before she could grasp elsewhere. “Now, now my wife, we mustn’t bruise the fruit.”

Laughing, she opened her palm and then smeared the pulp on his face. Before his mocked outrage could surface, she had already begun to lick it off of him. Now he was positive he was going to enjoy being married very much.

Afterwards they lie in each other’s arms and discuss their future plans. Lazily their hands (and wrist) caress the others skin, which always helped to keep tempers in check.

Taking in her distant gaze, he reached over and gently tugged at her chin, “My wench, I can tell you are scheming.”

“I was just thinking that at least now Littlefinger will be out of our way.” Brienne thoughtfully stated.

Jaime nodded and lightly bit her bare shoulder, “Yes, but I worry what little worm he will put in the Sovereign of the South’s ear regarding us. His son was killed for you.”

Brienne refused to think about the possible consequences now, but then maybe she should send at least a crow to them. Alas there was another matter to discuss. “While we head up North to kill Stannis and convince your brother, I was thinking we send your loyal guards to get Sansa and Podrick from Tarth. They can stay in an Inn up North and be ready for us when they are needed.”

She heard the concern in his voice as he chastised, “That is so risky, Brienne. What if my father gets wind of what we are doing?”

Using her elbow as a prop, she now gazed down at him, “You said those guards of yours are loyal to us, not your father.”

Pulling her back down to him, he reassuringly hugged her, “Yes, I think they are. They certainly had the chance to warn him once we all arrived back here.”

He felt her nod into his shoulder, “Good, then they will become her personal guards.”

“Actually I was hoping they could be yours.” He quickly held her tighter and sure enough he felt her tense up.

Brienne is about to say something caustic, but exhaled instead, “I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself, as can you.” When he loosened his hold she sat up. Placing her hand over his heart, she stared evenly into his eyes, “I know you worry about me, about this oath of mine, but I know we can succeed and fulfill what needs to be done. And also we must correct the mistakes that have been done by your family. This is the right thing to do.”

Jaime’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. This wasn’t just for her pledge, this was for reclaiming his honor as well. Quickly nodding, he then tugged her in for tight embrace, “Whatever would I do without my Lady wench?”

Brienne shrugged, “Still been my loving idiot.” She teased out. Laughing he then relaxed his hold on her and both began to kiss. The excitement for the new journey that lied ahead of them made them both appreciate the other all the more. They now knew that they could face any obstacles because they were finally together.

*

Epilogue - A FEW MONTHS LATER…

After finally arriving at Casterly Rock from their arduous adventure up North, the news that Jaime’s sister had given birth reached them.

Both Brienne and Jaime shared a look, but before hers could become a scowl they are given the news that the boy was born with brown hair and brown eyes.

Jaime was sure Cersei could hear their hollers for joy all the way down to Highgarden.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that after everything our happy couple has been through, they deserve some triumphant music. Here’s a classical piece for those so inclined: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tazn1CVoZpk
> 
> And I want to send out a big thank you to everyone for your comments, kudos and for even reading this! All of that has encouraged me to write a better fic. 
> 
> As for the future of this story, I have about 3 (maybe more) ideas for the continuation of this AU. But first I wanted to wait until after this season was over to incorporate some of it into them. Also I am in the middle of an Agent Carter fic and wanted to finish that before I started anything new. Alas, it does take me a while to write but I will do my best to get a story out sooner than later! 
> 
> Been a pleasure. Until the next time!


End file.
